Young Blood
by museofmirth
Summary: Katniss and Peeta begin to rebuild their lives in District Twelve. A more introspective take on things between Katniss and Peeta as they grow back together end of Mockingjay, pre-epilogue . Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is my first Hunger Games fanfiction. It's my introspective take on pre-epilogue happenings. I hope you enjoy! Please read and review! Also, all characters, etc. belong to Suzanne Collins, not me.

She stared at the ceiling, at the wooden boards. She wasn't looking at anything in particular. She wasn't counting the spots in the wood or the lines or the number of boards. She wasn't really thinking of anything at all.

She had been good today. She had eaten breakfast and dinner. Lunch she wasn't sure of, she didn't remember anything in between Greasy Sae coming in to prepare breakfast, then returning in the early evening to cook dinner. She knew there was food in the kitchen, in the refrigerator, that was meant for her to put together for lunch. But she hadn't moved from her spot on the couch all day, except when she had heard Greasy Sae come in the back door.

She wanted to stay right where she was, leaning her head back to stare at nothing, to think of nothing. She didn't want to walk past the windows or look out them. She didn't want to see that the world was still going on even though Prim was dead. Even though her mother refused to come home. "Home" was the wrong word though. Without her mother and Prim here it wasn't a home. It was just a house. A house with primroses planted out front – another reason to not look out the window.

Primroses. Prim. Prim. PRIM. Prim there one second, the shirt of her medic uniform refusing to stay tucked in to her skirt. Gone the next, blown into nothingness by the very District she had been working for.

Katniss could scream. She could wail and tear at her hair and beat her fists against the walls. But no, her sadness, her heartache was hers alone. It did not even belong to the realm of private outbursts. It was a dark entity within her, the sorrow and loneliness she felt. It ached all around her as much as she tried to contain it, from the emptiness of the house to the crippling memories she wouldn't wish away. In that she refused to allow anyone in. Not Greasy Sae who sometimes attempted small talk. Not the blonde-haired boy with scars like her own, who had planted the primroses for her. Not Haymitch who would stumble about drunker than not these days. Not the doctor at the Capitol who called and called and wanted to talk about feelings and nightmares she had and who wanted to send her drugs to take. No, the emptiness was something she could cling to – she HAD to cling to because Prim was gone.

The house, though relatively new, creaked and moaned, and there were moments where Katniss imagined that Prim was right upstairs, coming out of her room or about to descend the stairs. But there were no footsteps to follow the creaking and Katniss would laugh morbidly at herself. At her dumb delusions. But more often than not her reprimands were replaced by a quickening of her heart and an ache in her chest.

And then there were smaller tragedies – the tiny bird's nest with three perfect eggs that had been built in a long-forgotten lawn tractor's motor that were destroyed when Haymitch – on the spur of the moment – decided to do yard work. That just yesterday she saw Peeta throwing bits of burnt bread to the flock of geese and the sudden, sharp sense of guilt the image conjured. The whispering that went about town every time a body was discovered from the destruction of District 12. And how, in her mind, she was to blame.

Greasy Sae would update her on the rebuilding of the district, as part of her attempts at small talk. At first Katniss had been too numb to truly comprehend, to really care at all. But as the weeks turned into months, and the numbness turned into the ache in her chest and the pangs of guilt she felt, she found herself thinking of the town, wondering what all the new buildings looked like, wondering how everyone who had moved back – old and new – was settling in.

And so days – maybe weeks – after staring at the ceiling between visits from Greasy Sae and feeble attempts at keeping up with personal hygiene, Katniss found herself pulling a clean tunic over her head, braiding her unkempt hair, and lacing up her boots after she had cleaned her plate of breakfast one morning. Greasy Sae did not call out after her as Katniss strolled down the lane from the Victor's Village toward the town square. It was spring, Katniss realized, and suddenly her mind was flooded with images of vibrant green undergrowth and collecting birds' eggs from nests and the time she stayed her arrow after she saw the spotted fawn following closely behind its mother. The fawn had paused, its huge, dark eyes trained on her, and then with a flick of its tail skipped back towards the doe. Gale had chided her on the loss of game, until she silenced him with a steely look.

Gale. She did not want to think about him as she headed toward town. She didn't want to think about those gray eyes that so closely mirrored hers, or the many hours they had spent together in the woods, or the secrets and smiles she had saved for him, now all wasted and meaningless. She didn't want to think about how, if she had agreed to run off with him, Prim might still be alive. How she would never have been a part of the Capitol's or District Thirteen's games. How she would have never blinked an eye at the blond-headed baker's son.

She made a point to pound the dirt even harder under her boots as she walked on, trying to stamp out those nagging thoughts. Of course she wished things had turned out differently. She wished that every second that she allowed herself to wish. But things hadn't turned out differently. Her best friend was ultimately – although unintentionally – behind her sister's death. Her reason to go on, to live, was gone. And she was having trouble figuring out what to live for if it wasn't securing Prim's future.

She came upon the town square and the sights and sounds of reconstruction stamped out her nihilistic thoughts.

There was a neat little row of newly constructed buildings, their fresh coat of paint a stark contrast against the griminess of everything else. Much of the rubble of the destroyed buildings was gone. To where, Katniss didn't know. But as she approached the new structures, she could tell they were shops. One looked to be a fabric shop, a dressmaker's mannequin surrounded by rolls of bright cloth and ribbon in the window. Others were still empty or unopened. There was a barbershop, the striped pole adding even more whimsy to the bright storefronts.

There were quite a few people out that morning, some passing through town on to other matters, while others were working or overseeing construction. Some paused to stare at Katniss, finally out in the open. Others ignored her and went about their business. As Katniss approached the last of the newly constructed buildings she stopped in her tracks.

There, in front of the building, talking to a man in workmen's clothes holding what appeared to be blueprints was a familiar blond head. Peeta. Peeta in front of his new bakery.

She had stopped not even ten feet from him. As if he sensed her presence, he looked up from his discussion with the other man and found her. Their eyes met and for a split second something passed across his face, almost as if he were in pain. Then his eyes lit up and he smiled at her. Katniss, who had just then realized that her mouth was agape, clenched her jaw shut, turned abruptly, and pounded the gravel back toward the Victor's Village.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**:Here's the second chapter, a little longer than the first one. Hope you enjoy! And please send me feedback. Thanks to those who already have!

* * *

Halfway back to the Victor's Village, Katniss decided to take a detour into the woods. Soon a familiar sense of calm washed over her as she made her way through the forest. She had a bow and arrows hidden somewhere, but that was closer to the meadow. Or had Gale moved it? She couldn't remember. But she wasn't there to hunt. Not that day. Just to clear her head.

She eventually found a large tree that had fallen and made her perch on its vast trunk. Images swam before her – Peeta in the cave, Peeta with blood running down his leg trying to refuse her tourniquet, Peeta kissing her on the beach during the Quarter Quell, Peeta trying to kill her with his bare hands. It was too much. She felt dizzy. She tried to calm herself by closing her eyes and steadying her breathing. After a few deep breaths she opened her eyes. The forest was quiet, and she almost expected Gale to stride up to her when she opened her eyes. But she shook that thought from her head.

She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting on the fallen tree when she decided to head back. The sun was warm on that spring day, but still a chill had crept up on her. She should have worn her jacket over the thin cotton tunic. The walk helped warm her up and ease the stiffness that had settled in her joints after sitting for so long. She counted half a dozen fat squirrels that scurried up trees as she went past, as well as three large rabbits that she startled in the underbrush. She should set traps, she mused. She should find her bow and arrows and hunt again.

For months she hadn't let herself think about that. She couldn't. It was too much like before. Before her world had turned upside down. Before she had pretended to love him. Before she had killed people to return to Prim. But now it seemed all right. The ache in her chest was there, but it was always there as of late. The thought of being back out in the woods calmed her, relaxed her. She realized she had been cooped up in her house for too long.

She came upon the Victor's Village at a slow pace. The geese were nesting in the tall grass behind Haymitch's house. No noise came from within, which could be a good sign or a bad sign. Katniss actually smiled to herself. Peeta's house was also quiet. She hoped he was still in town. She felt a long-forgotten warmth creep up her neck to her cheeks when she thought about seeing him earlier that day. When she thought about how his eyes had lit up and how he had smiled. She shook her head. Embarrassment was all it was, she convinced herself.

On her porch, Buttercup was laying in the sun, languorously cleaning his paws. In earlier days, she might have kicked at him, causing him to jump up and hiss menacingly at her. But things were different now, and when he spied her, he stood up, stretched slowly, and wound his way through her legs. She bent down to scratch behind his stubby ears and that's when she noticed the basket.

The basket sat near her front door, clean white dishcloth covering its contents. There was a note pinned to the cloth. This wasn't Greasy Sae's handiwork. Greasy Sae would have left whatever she had brought in the kitchen. Nor was it from Haymitch, who would laugh uproariously at the suggestion that he had given her a basket. That meant there was only one person that it could be from.

She grabbed the handle and carried the basket inside, setting it down on the kitchen counter. She lifted the dishcloth and discovered several warm, fragrant loaves of bread. She tossed the dishcloth back over the loaves and once more saw the note. Before she registered what she was doing, she had unpinned the note and read it.

"Just thought you might like some. – Peeta" it read.

Her eyes stung. Still clutching the note tightly in her hand, she retreated from the kitchen to the couch. She blinked furiously, willing the tears not to fall. It was just bread she told herself. But it wasn't just bread. She thought of the burnt loaf thrown near her feet on a rainy day that had saved her, and Prim's, life. She thought about the bread Gale had shared with her on Reaping Day – it seemed like a lifetime ago.

He should hate her, not bake her bread. She was the one who had strung him along with kisses and caresses and false promises. It was her fault that the Capitol had captured him and turned him against her, against himself. She had been selfish to want him to return to her, and delusional to think he would come back the same. It was her fault he was scarred in the same way she was. The Girl on Fire had burned him.

But Peeta was recovering faster than she would have ever imagined. He was smiling and planting her flowers and baking bread and rebuilding the bakery. Katniss realized she knew more about him now that he was back in District 12 than she thought. Though she'd lived the past few months as a shut-in, she had listened to what Greasy Sae said about him. She had acted apathetic at the time, but the words had stuck. Peeta asking after her. Peeta wanting to bring her and Haymitch some bread. Katniss had made a small noise at that and walked out of the kitchen, so Greasy Sae must have told him her answer had been "no." Greasy Sae mentioning how busy Peeta was planning the new bakery. How it was going to be even bigger than his family's, with more ovens.

Two weeks ago Greasy Sae had told her the ovens for the bakery were to being delivered in a few weeks' time. That must have been what Peeta and the workman were discussing in town. Katniss couldn't believe she remembered so much of what had been said over Greasy Sae's modest, but filling dinners. She cooked for Peeta as well, and Katniss felt a familiar ache in her chest when she thought about eating the same food for breakfast and dinner as he did. For months she hadn't said two words to him, and he lived next door. The ache in her chest became sharp and she felt as if she couldn't breathe.

After she caught her breath, Katniss climbed the stairs for a much needed shower. She still couldn't bear to look in the mirror as she combed through her messy hair. Her scars hadn't fully matured, she knew. The doctors that had worked on her burns in the Capitol told her it would take a year. They had given her creams and salves and other concoctions that she was supposed to rub on her skin, but most lay unopened in a cabinet under her bathroom sink.

Naked, she stepped into the shower under a blast of hot water. Her delicate skin screamed in protest as she hastily adjusted the temperature. She let the warm water wash over her for a long time. When she didn't feel like standing, she sat in the shower, arms around her bent knees. She didn't move until the water turned cool.

She shivered as she dried off, her wet hair clinging around her face. In her room she pulled on some long-neglected clean clothes and wrapped the towel around her hair. That's when she noticed the lights on next door. At Peeta's house. He must be home now, she thought. She found herself close to the window, peering across her yard at his residence. She saw movement at a downstairs window and she quickly backed away from hers, lest she be seen spying. She did catch some movement from down the lane. Greasy Sae was making her way up for dinner.

Katniss towel dried her hair as thoroughly as she could and headed downstairs. Greasy Sae was already letting herself in the back door with her eyes fixed on the bread basket from Peeta.

"Hmmm." Greasy Sae made a noise as she lifted the dishcloth and surveyed the loaves. She set down her foodstuffs on the counter and inspected each loaf of bread as she removed it from the basket and set it on the clean dishcloth. Katniss sat on a stool and, resting her chin in her hand, watched Greasy Sae quietly prepare dinner.

Greasy Sae carefully sliced one of the loaves and buttered it to go with the stew she was heating up on the stove. She kept her back to Katniss as she worked, sometimes humming to herself.

"You need to talk to that boy." Greasy Sae said, stirring the stew. "After all y'all have been through, after all _he's_ been through…" She continued.

Katniss hung her head, her damp hair making wet marks on her shirt.

"He planted you those flowers, girl. Now he's baking you bread." Greasy Sae had taken the warm pot of stew off of the stove and set it on a layer of dishtowels on the counter. She looked Katniss long and hard in the eyes, then ladled a large portion into a bowl. She pushed the bowl, along with a few slices of bread, in Katniss's direction.

"I can assure you he doesn't hate you," Greasy Sae said matter-of-factly as Katniss was eating. Katniss dropped her spoon back into the bowl at Greasy Sae's statement. Something lurched in her stomach, almost as if the food had turned bad. But Katniss knew that wasn't the case. Her heart pounded in her chest as she dipped a piece of bread in the stew and continued eating.

"Tell him thanks, thanks for the bread," Katniss managed to get out between bites. Greasy Sae gave her a long look as she was packing up her things to head next door.

"I will," the older woman responded. "But I think you should thank him yourself."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Here's another chapter, a little longer than the first two! Hope you enjoy, and please leave your feedback! Thanks.

* * *

With a full belly and a heavy heart, Katniss crawled into her bed, foregoing a night on the couch downstairs. As she reached up to pull the curtains shut on the window at the head of her bed, she could see that the lights in Peeta's house were still burning bright.

That night she dreamt she was back on the train heading to the Quarter Quell, Peeta's strong arms wrapped around her for comfort. There were no nightmares of mutts attacking or Prim's death. When she awoke, the sunlight streaming in through the thin curtains, she half-expected a pre-hijacking Peeta to be sleeping soundly next to her.

Peeta. Peeta planting the evening primrose bushes. Then she remembered the days surrounding that event, the days she had worked so hard to block out for months now. Her failed attempt at hunting in the woods that lead her to her old house and to Buttercup. Sobbing in the darkened house with only the old cat for company. Her subsequent call to her mother, and more crying.

After some searching, she found her bow and quiver of arrows neatly tucked away in a downstairs closet, collecting dust. She vaguely remembered leaving them out in the living room, so Greasy Sae must have put them up for her. Hanging in the closet was her father's hunting jacket. She pulled the familiar garment on and laced up her boots. She pinned a note for Greasy Sae on a piece of scratch paper she found in a kitchen drawer and left it on the counter.

Katniss headed out in the opposite direction from the meadow, avoiding the mass grave that was there.

She missed her first squirrel. The second she hit in the belly instead of the eye, but she was pleased nonetheless. Without her or Gale in the forest to hunt, the animals had become less wary. After her third squirrel, Katniss spent time setting traps for rabbits and other game.

With the sun burning high, Katniss stopped to eat. She found shade under a large tree and settled herself on a patch of soft moss growing beneath it. Out of her bag she pulled a tureen of cold stew and a piece of bread from the night before. As she ate, she couldn't help but wonder what others were up to that day. Did Greasy Sae find her note? Was Peeta back in town, working on the plans for the new bakery? Or was he baking bread from his own oven? What was Haymitch up to? Drinking himself into oblivion or was it one of his more sober days?

She hadn't seen her mentor in months, not since he had last encouraged her to call her mother. She should call her mother. And Dr. Aurelius. Her phone had gone off for months without her moving to answer it. She hadn't _moved_ in months. Not on with her life. Not on from her grief. But she half-smiled to herself as she realized she was making some steps forward. Visiting town, accepting the bread basket, hunting. She could never have a "normal" life after all she had been through, but the past two days had been her most normal for months. Dr. Aurelius had talked to her about getting into a routine, months ago. She really should call him. And her mother.

After she had wiped the tureen clean of stew with her last mouthful of bread, Katniss packed her things away and headed farther into the forest. Life here was moving on at least, she thought. Everything was so verdant and fresh. Birds sang to each other and a few times she thought she heard a mockingjay reply. It made her think of her singing. Singing to Prim. Singing Rue to sleep forever. Singing at school that day that made Peeta fall in love with her. Singing with her father. Singing in the Capitol while she awaited the outcome of her trial. She hadn't sung since returning to District 12. The memory of song had been too painful. Now it was a dull ache in her chest like her other painful memories – Prim, Peeta once in love with her, her mother far away.

So she found herself singing quietly as she picked edible greens and mushrooms along the forest floor. When her pack was full and she was sweating from the warmth of the afternoon, she decided to head back. She sang herself softly back to the Victor's Village.

"I went hunting today," she told her mother on the phone a few hours later. She had cleaned the squirrels and wrapped up the meat for Greasy Sae. After that she had showered and was tucked up on the couch, her hair in a towel.

" That's good, Katniss," her mother replied. "What did you get?"

Katniss described her venture into the forest with her mother. She told her about the reconstruction in town and Peeta's new bakery. Her mother asked few questions and rather listened.

"Have you been using the creams they gave you in the Capitol?" She did ask, the healer in her speaking out.

When Katniss replied honestly, her mother gently admonished her for not taking better care of her skin. Katniss felt pangs of guilt for not taking better care of herself. She had let herself wallow in grief just as her mother had done years ago. Katniss was lucky though that she had no one to support, and that Greasy Sae had been there – paid or not – to cook her meals and do a bit of cleaning when needed. Katniss promised her mother that she would use the creams and that she would call her back soon. When the line clicked off and her mother was gone, Katniss realized how much she had missed the sound of her mother's voice, the strength that the older woman had gained in the past few years. But her mother had other things to focus on in a district far away, while Katniss had been banished back to District Twelve, like a ghost, doomed to haunt the places she used to live.

Katniss sat staring at the phone, knowing she should dial up Dr. Aurelius. She was afraid though that he would bring up things she didn't want to hear or didn't want to think about. However, he had never been pushy in the Capitol, so why would he be now? She quickly dialed the number she had looked up before she could convince herself not to.

A familiar male voice answered and Katniss felt an odd sense of relief wash over her.

"Katniss," Dr. Aurelius spoke, recognizing her number. She didn't even know the number to her own house. "It's good to hear from you. It's been a while."

"I went hunting today," she began their conversation in the same way she had started the one between her and her mother.

Dr. Aurelius, like her mother, listened more than he spoke. He praised her for getting out of the house, visiting town and the forest. He did ask about her mood, her nightmares, and any suicidal thoughts she had had. Talking to him made her wonder how Peeta was doing, being treated by the same doctor. She knew that if she asked, Dr. Aurelius couldn't tell her, but she wondered nonetheless. Of course the Peeta she had known would keep up with his phone calls and whatnot. He was practically done with his new bakery.

She hung up the phone with Dr. Aurelius, again promising to keep in touch. She realized the ache in her chest didn't hurt so much once she had talked to her mother and the doctor. It felt good to speak to someone other than Greasy Sae. She missed being able to come home from a day in the woods and recount it for her mother and Prim.

She was lost in her thoughts when Buttercup decided to alert her to his presence with a loud meow. She found him sitting on the floor near the couch licking his lips.

"Yeah, you're always hungry," she said grudgingly, moving from the couch to the kitchen with Buttercup at her heels.

She found some leftovers in the fridge and prepared a bowl for Buttercup, her own stomach starting to grumble. The cat ate the food hungrily, Katniss watching from her perch on a kitchen stool. She knew Greasy Sae should be there any moment, but her hunger was more raw after being out in the woods most of the day. She eyed the untouched loaves of bread on the counter. Before she could stop herself, she rose and sliced a large portion from a darker loaf and bit into it. It tasted wonderful and earthy. There were some sort of seeds cooked into the bread and she enjoyed the nutty crunch.

Greasy Sae let herself in through the back door, which entered through the kitchen, and eyed Katniss snacking on the bread. She nodded approvingly and set her things down on the counter between them. Katniss showed her the squirrels she had caught and Greasy Sae happily put the wrapped-up meat in her bag. She was quiet as she prepared the meal, reheating some sort of meat in a thick sauce over the stove and putting a pan of potatoes in the oven to warm. She took the loaf that Katniss had been working on and proceeded to slice what was left. Katniss looked on hungrily.

After Katniss had sopped up every bit of sauce with the last slice of bread, Greasy Sae took her plate to wash in the sink.

"Are you going to Peeta's soon?" Katniss asked, already knowing the answer.

"Mhmm," Greasy Sae replied, washing the few dishes that had been dirtied, not turning around to look at her.

Greasy Sae handed the wet dishes across to Katniss, along with a clean dishtowel. Katniss didn't protest, but began to methodically dry each dish and piece of silverware. Once the dishes were back in their proper place, Greasy Sae packed her things back up to head next door.

"I'll walk with you," Katniss said and hopped off the stool she had been perched on. Greasy Sae did not pause, but did look back over her shoulder at Katniss as she headed toward the door. Katniss followed closely behind.

It was dusk turning to dark outside, but the lights from the corner of her house and Peeta's kept the area illuminated well enough. Her back door stood directly across from his, so it only took a few steps to arrive.

Katniss was walking beside Greasy Sae when Peeta opened the door for the older lady. Katniss looked up at him, standing in the doorway, illuminated from behind with the light from his kitchen. His silhouette was reassuringly familiar, and in the dim light she could hardly see the scars that swirled across his forehead. She blinked once, casually sticking her nervous hands into her pants pockets. Peeta had looked surprised to see her at first, but now was giving her a questioning half smile. He stepped sideways for Greasy Sae to walk through the doorway and into the kitchen, his gaze fixed on Katniss. She had stopped a few feet from the door.

"I…I just wanted to tell you, in person, uh…thanks for the bread," she managed to say. She was staring at his feet now, though, instead of his face.

"I'm glad you liked it," he replied with a wide, warm smile.

Katniss managed to meet his gaze for half a second. She felt the corners of her mouth twitch up into what might have been a smile. Then she whirled around and retreated to her house for the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Yay! Another chapter completed! I promise they won't all be one chapter = one day or else this would be a LONG fic! Anyway, hope you enjoy! And please leave your feedback, thanks to those who have already done so!

* * *

Katniss found herself early the next morning eyeing the jars of creams and lotions she had been given for her skin. She knew she should apply them, but if she were to hunt that day, any strong scent might scare away her prey. She told herself she'd use them after she came in and showered that evening as she shut the cabinet in her bathroom.

She left Greasy Sae another note on the kitchen counter as she prepared some food to take along. She tore off a hunk of bread from one of the remaining loaves and ate it as she headed out early. The birds called after her on the cool spring morning as she made her way into the forest.

She discovered two plump rabbits in her snares, as well as a young fox that she let loose. She reset the snares as she went. She was in no hurry, had no concern for the amount of game she caught to be sold or traded later. That was all before. Now she had plenty of food _and_ someone to prepare it. She was unsure of the townsfolk's need for game. The Hob was no longer in existence, and as far as she could tell from her conversations with Greasy Sae, those who had moved back into town were fairing well. But hunting gave Katniss something to do, a way to move on. And Greasy Sae would surely appreciate the different game and wild greens to add to her cooking.

So Katniss moved at her own pace, advancing quietly through the woods. Having caught three squirrels the day before and two rabbits that morning, she focused on target practice. Yesterday had been the first time in months that she had shot a bow. The first time since she killed Coin. She felt sick at the thought and missed the tree trunk she was aiming at. She cleared her thoughts as best she could and retrieved her arrow from the underbrush. Her next shot, to a woody knob on a tree many paces off, was on target.

She remembered all those years when she, her mother, and Prim had been kept alive by her skill with a bow. How it had helped her win favor with the Gamemakers. How it had kept her alive in the arena. Now it was reduced to what could be considered a hobby, she mused. Her life was not at stake here, whether she shot straight or not. No one else depended on her skill. She thought of the arrow piercing the boy who had killed Rue. The arrow that she had tied Peeta's tourniquet with, which had kept him from bleeding to death. The arrow that was meant for President Snow.

Again, she shuddered at the thought. Of course her assassination of Coin had been deemed the work of someone who was not mentally stable. After Prim's death, it was no wonder they had branded her as a loon. However, she was more stable now, she thought as she pulled the arrow from the knob in the tree, than she had been in the past couple of years. It was over, she had been told too many times. It was over. The Hunger Games. The Quarter Quell. The rebellion. The trial. Her role as the Mockingjay. Yet nothing was truly over when nightmares and flashbacks plagued her more nights than not. Not when she had the scars to remind her of each wound, physical or not. Not when her dreams had been pushed aside for fear she may never live long enough to see them realized. Not when her next-door neighbor was a boy who had loved her, been taken away from her, and then returned hating her.

"He doesn't hate you…" Greasy Sae's words echoed as she aimed for another target, her thoughts weighing heavy in her mind.

How_ could_ he still hate her? He had planted the primroses for her. He had inquired after her for months. He had baked her bread and smiled happily when she thanked him. Unless it was some cruel trick to get her near enough so that he could wrap his hands around her throat – again – and kill her. But Peeta had stayed in the Capitol for months after she had been banished back to District 12, undergoing all kinds of therapy. Maybe he was back to "normal" – whatever _that_ meant. Whatever the case, whether he still hated her or not, she doubted his feelings from before were still the same.

And in the woods on that warm spring day, birds chirping all around, she realized that him not loving her anymore hurt almost as much as Prim's death.

She didn't have Gale. She didn't have her mother, or Prim. Greasy Sae was kind enough but she, nor her granddaughter that sometimes came along with her, was not the kind of friend or confidante that Katniss needed. Haymitch didn't count either. He was too much like Katniss for the two to be civil for long. No one knew what she had gone through like Peeta. But how much of it did he truly remember now that his mind had been addled?

She shot straight for the rest of the day, emptying her mind of all but her target. When she was sweating and hungry mid-day, she ate the food and enjoyed the bottle of water she had packed.

Katniss found herself making her way back to the Victor's Village near sunset, pinks and golds flooding the sky. She breathed deeply of the cool spring air, more weary than she had been in months. It felt good, though, to be out and active all day. She peeled out of her sweat-dampened clothes and headed for the shower. Afterwards she made good her promise to her mother by slathering her skin in one of the medicated creams. It smelled slightly of mint. Try as she might, there were areas on her back that she couldn't reach. She sat on the bathroom floor, naked, until the cream had fully absorbed. It was a long while and she heard Greasy Sae let herself in downstairs.

"I'll be down in a minute!" Katniss called out to the older woman as she got dressed.

Greasy Sae was cooking some of the wild greens that had been gathered the day before when Katniss made her way downstairs. Katniss presented her with the two plump rabbits and the older woman told her they'd be perfect for a stew, packing them with her things.

That night Katniss ate the lean, stringy meat mixed in with sausage and rice, recognizing it as squirrel. She was glad Greasy Sae had put it to good use. When it was time for the older woman to pack up and go next door, Katniss followed her as she had done the night before. Greasy Sae didn't question her or even say a word as Katniss walked beside her.

Again Peeta was at his back door, waiting for Greasy Sae. Instead of standing in the doorway like the night before, however, he moved out a few feet into the yard when he saw Katniss. She willed herself not to blush – from embarrassment she told herself – though in the dim light one would hardly notice.

"Hi," she managed, shyly.

"Hey," Peeta replied, a slight smile on his face.

They were standing maybe three feet apart, the closest they had been in months. Katniss held her hands behind her so he wouldn't see her wringing them nervously. She had a hard time not staring at his shoes.

"How is construction on the new bakery coming along?" She asked, genuinely interested.

"Good," he replied with a wider grin. "Just got the ovens installed the other day. I'm still waiting on some more supplies from the Capitol until it's all ready though."

"Oh?" She responded inquisitively.

"Yeah," he replied, his right arm fold behind is head casually. "It should be open soon. There's going to be a grand opening. You should come." He added quickly.

"Oh yeah? Just let me know when," Katniss managed to say. Her cheeks were warm and she prayed to herself that he couldn't tell. She felt awkward enough as it were.

"Well, enjoy your dinner," Katniss added after a too-long pause. "It's squirrel that I caught yesterday, in the woods. Good thing I'm not the one cooking." Katniss joked as she turned back toward her house.

Peeta laughed and Katniss's stomach lurched. As she stepped back into her kitchen, she turned to catch sight of Peeta still in his doorway, watching her. He raised one arm to wave as she closed the door behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Two chapters in the same day? Yup! Here's Chapter 5. This one came to me so quickly I had to get it typed out and published! More to come soon. Please read and review!

* * *

For a while, each day was similar. Katniss spent her time in the woods, hunting or gathering or just taking stock of the land as she mulled over her thoughts. At night Greasy Sae was there with warm meals, and after, Katniss would find herself outside, making small talk with Peeta. Most of the time he appeared cheerful and genuinely glad to see her. But a few times his face would grow dark and his eyes would go wild and Greasy Sae would steer him inside away from Katniss. Those times were the worst, and Katniss would cry silently to herself in her darkened house.

After a few weeks, Greasy Sae began to hint that it would be so much easier for her to prepare one slightly larger meal than two identical ones in two different kitchens. At first, Katniss had stared, somewhat puzzled, at the older woman. When she finally understood what Greasy Sae meant, Katniss could have laughed at herself. Of course it would be easier to eat her meals with Peeta, and since things seemed to be all right between them, she agreed.

So it was settled in late spring that Greasy Sae would cook at Katniss's house since Peeta often used his oven for baking. He was invited to join them, and to no surprise he accepted the offer, having discussed the same matter with Greasy Sae. Even Haymitch was invited, Peeta braving the older man's filthy house to ask him. Haymitch, awoken from a drunken slumber, had thrown a boot, narrowly missing Peeta's head, and told the younger man he'd think about it.

Katniss found that laughter, long absent, had reentered her life. She was mostly quiet around Peeta or made small talk, but her dry sense of humor found its way out on several occasions. When one evening, during dinner, Peeta suddenly remembered he had left a few loaves in the oven at his house. He had hurried over to his place only to find thick gray smoke billowing from his oven, the loaves charred to blackened rocks. Instead of getting angry, Peeta sheepishly grinned at Katniss, who had watched the spectacle from her kitchen window. Greasy Sae had made a few sounds of mild disapproval.

"Girl on fire?" Katniss spoke when Peeta finally reentered her kitchen, smelling of burnt bread and smoke. "More like your house on fire."

Peeta had grinned as Katniss kept a straight face, watching him. Greasy Sae gave them both a look as Peeta reclaimed his spot at the kitchen counter.

"If you'd have thought more about your bread and less about this here girl," Greasy Sae spoke up as Katniss and Peeta resumed their dinner, "you might not have almost burnt your house down."

Katniss felt her face turn a bright red at the older woman's statement. She quickly ducked her head down and continued eating. She couldn't bear to look at Peeta, lest her face turn an even brighter shade of red.

"Well, I'll have to air out my kitchen for a few days," Peeta said, ignoring Greasy Sae's comment, "so til then, there won't be any bread. Sorry." He said matter-of-factly. He didn't sound too concerned about it though. "That is," he continued, "until the grand opening of the bakery in three days," he grinned.

"I'll have to clear my schedule," Katniss said wryly, giving him a look. He smiled cheerfully back at her.

Peeta lingered after Greasy Sae had left, helping Katniss dry the dishes and put them in their proper place. She was careful to watch his demeanor from the corner of her eye, making sure he didn't have one of his hijacking flashbacks from being so close to her. The first time that they had done dishes together and their fingers had brushed unexpectedly, Katniss had felt a jolt of electricity run through her. A few times she had had to back away from Peeta, his eyes wild and a look of rage on his face. He had grabbed the kitchen counter or the back of a chair and held on for a few moments while the spell passed. The first time it had happened, Katniss had gone back into the kitchen to find him gone, her back door shut behind him as he retreated to his house, ashamed.

"It's ok," she had told him softly the next night at dinner, "when it happens. It's ok." Peeta had looked at her directly without saying a word, relief on his face.

And so the next time he had a flashback, weeks later, Katniss found him sitting on her kitchen floor, breathing heavily. She had helped him back up onto his feet, not even thinking about the closeness of their bodies but rather concerned for his wellbeing. He had apologized profusely as she made sure he got home safely.

But that night, when Peeta had burnt the bread and nearly burned down his house, there were no flashbacks, only Katniss's quiet teasing and Peeta's self-effacing laughter. After the dishes were put up, Peeta went to open the windows in his house and make sure it was airing out. Katniss followed him, having offered to help. He hadn't protested.

It was the first time she had been in his house since returning to District 12. Things were hard to see in the kitchen, the thick smoke still darkening the air. Peeta had gone upstairs to open those windows while Katniss opened the downstairs ones. She finished downstairs and waited on Peeta. When he didn't return in a few minutes, she decided to go upstairs and check on him.

The smoke had made its way to the second storey, making the visibility low. Luckily she knew his house had the same basic blueprint as hers, so she made her way toward his bedroom. She found him struggling with the window there, it not wanting to open.

"Want some help?" She asked. He looked up, startled at first, and then nodded.

Peeta took one side of the window and Katniss positioned herself on the opposite side. She looked at Peeta and on the count of three they heaved. The window groaned for a second, then reluctantly moved upward, letting out the smoke-filled air. With the window up and locked in place, Katniss let go at the same time as Peeta. They had moved in the same direction and Katniss suddenly realized they were only inches apart, Peeta staring at her.

In the haze, she saw him step forward, closing the gap between them. His hands came forward and she froze, thinking any second his hands would be around her throat, squeezing the air from her lungs. But then his hands were cupping the sides of her face as he moved impossibly close.

His lips were warm and the kiss tasted like smoke.

It only last a few seconds, then Peeta had moved back to sit on the edge of his bed, his face hidden in his hands.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, still not looking up. "Katniss I…I'm sorry."

She moved toward him and gently placed her hand on his forearm. At her touch, he looked up at her.

"Your whole house smells like smoke. You can't stay here with it like that." She spoke, trying to push the feeling of his lips against hers into the back of her mind. "Come on, you can crash on my couch for a few days."

"But the grand opening is just a few days away," he began to protest.

"Come on," she coaxed, her hand lightly grasping his forearm. She tugged until he stood up, not making any move to get closer to her.

Katniss folded her arms across her chest as she watched him gather a few things – some items of clothing, an extra toothbrush and some other toiletries. She saw him grab a jar similar to one she had. It was one of the same salves the doctors in the Capitol had given her.

"Hey, that's the same stuff I use," she spoke lightheartedly. "Maybe you can get my back for me sometime," she joked.

Peeta stared at her, and the suggested intimacy of her joke along with the recent kiss made her blush. She laughed awkwardly. Peeta didn't respond, but rather gathered up his things quietly. They made their way back to Katniss's house, a spark of electricity still between them.

Katniss found an extra pillow and blanket as Peeta showered, ridding himself of the smell of smoke. He came back into the living room wearing clean clothes that only mildly smelled of smoke. With his hair wet, Katniss realized how truly vulnerable he looked. The scars on his forehead were more noticeable and his eyes looked more sullen. Or maybe he was still upset with himself for earlier. Katniss chose to block out the kiss. It would be easier if she pretended like it never happened.

Once Peeta assured her that he would be comfortable on the couch, she retreated upstairs, wondering if he smelled slightly of mint.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Eh, this chapter is kind of blah, but necessary in that it holds the whole idea and conversation behind the book of memories. Anyway hope you enjoy! Next chapter will (hopefully) be the grand opening of the bakery!

* * *

Knowing that Peeta was sleeping downstairs, Katniss had difficulty stilling her thoughts enough to fall asleep. It was a quiet night, like most, and Katniss laid in bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. She listened intently for any sign of distress from downstairs. Was Peeta having a nightmare? Or a flashback? She wondered what his nightmares were like now, post hijacking. Hers centered around Prim mostly, and explosions. Fire. And burning alive. Sometimes she went unaffected in her dreams, forced to watch those around her burn into nothingness. Sometimes she felt strong hands around her neck, Peeta as a mutt choking the life out of her. She would wake thrashing, trying to throw off her attacker only to find herself alone in bed.

Then she wondered what it would be like to have someone else in bed with her. Someone there to comfort her. The ache in her chest grew deeper as she thought about curling up next to Peeta on those nights leading up to the Quarter Quell. His strong arms not attacking her, but holding her when she awoke from a nightmare. How she slept so much more soundly with him breathing next to her. It was different now though, now that he had those awful flashbacks. Would he wake in the night and hurt her? Or would he hurt her in his sleep?

It was a long night.

When Katniss awoke in the morning, bleary eyed and head throbbing from too little sleep, she knew she wouldn't be out hunting that day. When she finally made her way downstairs, still half asleep, she wondered if Peeta would still be there. The smell of breakfast lured her to the kitchen. Walking past the couch she saw where he had neatly folded the blanket and set it atop the pillow. She smiled to herself.

In the kitchen Peeta was helping Greasy Sae prepare breakfast.

"Good morning Katniss," Peeta called out cheerfully, busy scrambling eggs. "How did you sleep?"

Greasy Sae, pulling biscuits out of the oven, eyed Katniss's unkempt appearance and dark circles under her eyes and gave the girl a long look.

"I slept all right," Katniss lied. "How was the couch?"

"It was just fine," Peeta replied, halving the scrambled eggs between two plates. "Better than breathing in smoke all night." He laughed.

Katniss pulled up a stool to the kitchen counter and hungrily eyed the biscuits and eggs. She waited for Peeta to take his place beside her before she started eating. There was a perfectly good table and chairs in one corner of the kitchen, but it was rarely used. Katniss had sat on a stool one day, early on, watching Greasy Sae cook and the behavior stuck. Now she and Peeta sat side by side at the kitchen counter. The few times Haymitch had stopped by to eat they did use the table, however. Greasy Sae never joined them for breakfast or dinner, and Katniss mused the older lady must eat before or after she came to the Victor's Village. Instead, she stood near the stove, arms folded or not, and watched Katniss and Peeta eat. If her granddaughter came with her she was usually chasing her around, admonishing her or instructing her to not get into anything, while the two ate and laughed at the little girl.

Katniss spooned strawberry preserves onto her biscuit that morning, a memory of the mayor's daughter flashing across her mind.

"Madge," she spoke aloud, a far away look in her eyes, "Madge, the mayor's daughter, she loved strawberries. The mayor always bought them from me."

"Oh?" Peeta asked, putting down his fork long enough to look at Katniss. "Madge…" he said, as if trying to remember. "What else do you remember, Katniss?" He asked softly.

She stared off, not really looking at anything. When she didn't reply, he gently brushed his hand over hers. She blinked and looked down at his hand on top of hers. He looked afraid for half a moment, as if she would pull her hand away. She didn't. Greasy Sae made herself busy, packing her things instead of watching the two.

"They're buried in the meadow," Katniss continued, "in that mass grave. No grave marker or anything," she said softly, her voice almost trembling. She met Peeta's gaze. "I remember everything, Peeta."

"Well then!" Peeta exclaimed a little too loudly. "We need a book of memories."

Katniss stared at him, not quite sure if he was serious.

"A book of memories?" She asked slowly. Peeta got up from his stool and headed toward the living room. He came back a few moments later clutching something.

"I found this last night," he said, setting a book in front of Katniss.

It was her father's plant book. She remembered finding it, months ago, in the same box where she found her bow and quiver of arrows along with her father's hunting jacket. She must have set it somewhere in the living room, out in the open, because Peeta, as far as she knew, was not one to go snooping through her things. She gently touched the worn edges of the book, almost afraid to open it and see the entries she and Prim had added. But she knew what had to be done. Instead of a book to remember which plants were good to eat, there should be a book to remember those who were now gone forever. Prim would have liked that, she thought, trying to hold back tears.

"We can write about them, all the things we remember," she said almost as if to herself.

"And I can draw." Peeta added. Katniss looked from the book to him. "I can draw pictures of them. Though you'll have to describe some of them for me. My memories are a little…um, crazy." He added.

Katniss wanted to throw her arms around him and weep openly, half from sorrow and half from joy that there was some way to memorialize those she had lost. But she held back, clutching the book, scared she might trigger a flashback. Scared it might mean something she couldn't promise.

With Peeta busy in town, working to prepare everything for the grand opening of his bakery in a few short days, Katniss called her mother and Dr. Aurelius to catch up. Her mother was busy, and the phone call brief, but she was delighted to hear about the idea for a book. Katniss didn't mention too many details or bring up Prim for fear that both her and her mother would be reduced to tears. Her mother was also happy that Katniss had been using the creams for her skin, and Katniss blushed to herself when she remembered her awkward comment to Peeta from the night before.

Her phone call to Dr. Aurelius was a little longer. He seemed genuinely curious about Katniss's idea for a book and so she explained her family's plant book to him. He thought it would be a good way for Katniss to cope with the losses she'd suffered, like some kind of therapy. He also explained how it would be good for Peeta, since the young man still had difficulty telling a real memory from a false one the Capitol had planted.

"He really is doing good," Katniss told Dr. Aurelius softly, thinking of Peeta.

"He's doing remarkably well, yes," the doctor responded. "Better than any of us could have hoped for really. But he still has questions. Probably more questions now than even before." Dr. Aurelius continued. Katniss listened.

"But being around you, Katniss, helps him." Dr. Aurelius spoke candidly. "It has helped him to figure out a bit of what is real and not real. I am really pleased you two are getting along." Katniss was glad Dr. Aurelius was not there to see her blush.

Dr. Aurelius was usually so quiet and reserved, but that day he spoke so openly. He didn't reveal any details of Peeta's treatment, but did agree that both Katniss and Peeta had made more progress than most had anticipated. Once their conversation was over, Katniss hung up the phone with an odd sense of relief mixed with apprehension. Peeta had questions. So who would he ask, her? What if he didn't like her answers?

She was far from healed, she knew, and wondered how far Peeta was from being whole. Whole. That was the wrong word, because she knew neither one of them could ever be truly whole. Too much had happened. Too many loved ones lost.

That evening Peeta came over carrying a large box he had just received via post. As Greasy Sae prepared their dinner, Katniss and Peeta took a kitchen knife to the box and opened it. It was full of brightly colored streamers and signs for the new bakery, and Peeta couldn't hide his grin as they unloaded everything. The bright colors reminded Katniss of the frosted cakes in the window of the old bakery, the ones Prim used to love. Prim. Katniss had stopped winding up a streamer and was staring off past the box, past Peeta.

"Katniss," he spoke her name gently, "are you all right?"

Katniss was brought back to the present moment and shook her head before any tears could fall.

"Dr. Aurelius thinks our idea for a book is great," Katniss said, ignoring Peeta's question.

"Great," Peeta replied. "Once this grand opening is done with and I have a little more time, I can help you get started." He smiled at Katniss and she gave him a half-smile back.

Peeta made no more attempts to get close to Katniss or to kiss her or to even touch her that night. Again he was stationed on the couch as she retreated upstairs for bed. She slept better that night, turning off her thoughts for long enough to doze off. In the morning, Peeta was gone before Greasy Sae even showed up, leaving a note about having to be at the bakery early to prepare for the grand opening.

The box, along with all the decorations and signs, was also gone, and Katniss felt a raw sense of loss over her empty house.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Ok, this chapter is LONG, but I felt it flowed better as one chapter instead of splitting it into two. Sadly this will be my last update for while, as I'm leaving to go on vacation and won't be able to upload anything. Don't despair, though! Enjoy this chapter and I'll be back soon enough! And reviews are always appreciated!

* * *

Katniss, curious about the bakery, found herself walking toward town mid-morning. Greasy Sae hadn't asked about Peeta's absence when she came to cook breakfast, and Katniss hadn't offered an explanation. Instead she ate in silence, wondering what to do that day. So after slathering herself in one of the medicated creams and putting on fresh clothes, she headed out down the road.

It was warmer that day than most, and the sun shone mirthfully. The dogwoods were in bloom and the delicate white flowers reminded Katniss of something she couldn't quite place. It must be mid-May, Katniss realized. She hadn't kept up with the date since she got back to District 12, except through the surroundings' overt display of the seasons. It was appropriate that the town was being rebuilt, that the new bakery was being opened amidst a world immersed in rebirth. At first Katniss couldn't bear to see the world in bloom, moving on without her and without those she lost. But now it was comforting. Life, as painful and lonely as it was, _did_ go on. Katniss breathed in the warm spring air and exhaled, feeling the change deep within her bones.

It felt good to get out and stretch her legs. Signs of life were all around. A lady washing clothes in a tub beside her house as young children played near her. A few workers taking a break beneath a shade tree. A young man walking in the same direction she was, his dog trotting beside him. She did get quite a few looks, walking through town, but she was mostly ignored as people went about their business. There were a few women going in and out of the fabric shop, and the barbershop was busy, folks getting their hair trimmed and trading gossip. Katniss stopped in front of the largest building, the bakery, and took in the sign that was draped above the doorway.

"Grand Opening" it read in large blue letters with the date of the event beneath.

There were also smaller signs in the windows advertising breads and pastries and cakes. Through the left-hand window Katniss could see the large display case, already filled with beautifully frosted cakes. The ache in her chest grew sharp as she wished Prim could be there to share in the moment. But Prim was gone, and Katniss knew her younger sister would rather her enjoy this than wallow in despair over what-ifs.

"Hey there," the words brought Katniss out of her somber thoughts. Peeta was standing before her in the doorway of the bakery, his apron covered in flour.

"Just thought I'd see how things were going," Katniss responded, her hands stuffed into her pants pockets. She followed Peeta into the bakery, marveling at the newness of everything.

The display case took up one whole portion of the bakery, filled with racks for fresh breads and cakes and pastries. A large brass cash register stood on top of the case, complete with buttons and knobs and dials that Katniss was tempted to push. There were a few tables and chairs along one wall for those customers who wanted to stay and eat their purchases or had orders to wait on. There was plenty of shelving holding freshly packaged loaves of bread and rolls and cookies. There were several pieces of artwork hanging on the walls, whimsical paintings of cookies with bright sprinkles, loaves of bread with steam wafting off, even one showing the outside of the bakery with two young girls looking in.

Katniss stopped in her tracks when she saw the last painting, recognizing whom the girls in the picture were supposed to represent. The shorter one had long blonde hair and was pointing to a frosted cake. The taller girl had dark hair that was coiled into a familiar braid. She was clutching the smaller girl's hand. Peeta stopped what he had been doing – standing on a chair to hang the brightly colored streamers in front of the display case – and joined Katniss in front of the painting.

"You painted this?" She asked breathlessly when he walked up next to her.

"Yep, every one," he replied non-chalantly.

"And this one," she continued, "that's supposed to be me and…and Prim, isn't it?" She asked, tears welling in her eyes.

He had one arm up, hand ruffling his hair, when she finally looked at him. She knew he could see the tears about to fall as he searched her face.

"Um yeah…" he replied, the smile wiped from his face. "I hope that's ok."

Before she could stop herself, she had buried her face in his chest. She felt his whole body stiffen for half a second, then he relaxed and wrapped his arms around her. She was crying into his shirt, his apron, but she didn't care. He held her for a long while, his head pressed against hers. Anyone who walked by would have seen them through the window, a thin, dark haired girl being embraced by the blond-headed baker, covered in flour. But they wouldn't have understood. Katniss herself wasn't sure if the tears were of grief or joy at the sight of the painting. Finally she stopped crying and sniffled a few times.

"You're going to be covered in flour," Peeta spoke softly into her ear. She laughed as she disentangled herself from him, wiping her eyes with a flour-dusted hand.

For a moment he raised his hand to wipe the flour off her face, then stopped himself, handing her a dishtowel instead. She took care of her face first, then unsuccessfully tried cleaning the flour off of her clothes. She finally gave up, resigned to have the powdery substance dusting her clothes. She laughed aloud at her appearance and Peeta chuckled himself a bit.

"I miss her so much," Katniss said softly, sitting on a stool near the display case while Peeta finished hanging the streamers.

Peeta looked down at her from the chair he was standing in, wobbling a bit on his prosthetic leg. Katniss pretended to be interested in the edge of the counter rather than look up at him and start crying again.

"Well, she should be the first entry into the book," Peeta said matter-of-factly, using the counter to help himself down from his chair. Katniss looked up at him as he jumped back to the ground rather ungracefully.

She agreed with him about the book and was surprised when he handed her a large cookie, still warm from the oven. She didn't have to be coaxed to take a bite, the buttery cookie erupting with flavor in her mouth. She expressed her delight to Peeta who was busy placing the rest of the batch onto the cooling racks. He thanked her modestly, a slow blush creeping up the back of his neck. Or it could have just been the heat from the ovens, Katniss told herself. She enjoyed seeing him in his element, keeping busy. She hoped that it kept his nightmares at bay.

They spent much of the day like that, Katniss perched on a stool, watching Peeta work, reassuring him every-so-often that she wasn't bored. A few townsfolk would poke their heads in to say hello to Peeta. When they caught site of Katniss, some stopped in their tracks, while others nodded in her direction or gave her a friendly wave. Everyone seemed to have accepted Peeta with open arms. Of course they remembered him from his parents' bakery and so it was only natural that they were happy over the new one. Also, much of Peeta's personality was the same as before, his general likability and unguarded friendliness. It was Katniss who was guarded, wary of ulterior motives. Peeta seemed to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, warming the coldest of hearts.

It was no wonder when a gaggle of young girls stopped outside the bakery, giggling and whispering amongst each other. A few seemed to point at Katniss. Katniss stared back at them, a somewhat menacing look on her face. Of course Peeta would be popular with the girls who had moved back into town. Despite the burn scars that scrolled their way across his forehead and his slight limp from his prosthetic leg, he was still good-looking. His blond hair and blue eyes were bright and his smile brighter. He was somewhat thinner than he had been before the hijacking, but he was slowly gaining weight back as muscle.

Katniss eyed his muscular arms as he carried a sack of flour to the back of the bakery. Those same strong arms that had encircled her earlier, that had comforted her, could potentially crush her. She shook her head at the thought. She wasn't scared of Peeta. She was scared of what the Capitol had done to him. Surely Dr. Aurelius would not have cleared him to move back to the district if he had not been recovered enough. But she knew that part of Peeta's recovery – and hers as well – was to be back in District 12, to move on with life.

It was late when Peeta finally turned the lights off and locked everything up for the day. Their lunch had consisted of bread and cookies, and Katniss was growing quite hungry, rumblings in her stomach giving her away. They walked back together toward the Victor's Village in the growing twilight. The sound of locusts chirping and birds calling out was their own private symphony. In the dim light, Katniss couldn't make out the scars on Peeta's forehead. He caught her looking though and she quickly averted her gaze back to the gravel path.

"Sometimes my memories are…off," Peeta began as the walked side by side. Katniss kept walking, staring at the path. "Especially memories having to do with you, Katniss…" she met his gaze.

"A lot of it I know isn't true." He continued, "I've re-watched the games and the Quarter Quell half a dozen times. And the tour of the districts, everything. But still…" He went silent.

Katniss stopped abruptly and turned toward Peeta.

"Yeah..?" She asked simply.

"Yeah." He responded. "Memories of you trying to kill me – I know those aren't true," he quickly added before she could cut him off. "But it's the little things. The way you looked at me in all the recordings I've watched is different than the way you looked at me in my hijacked memories. And it's different than the way you look at me now, Katniss."

Something small and delicate fluttered deep inside Katniss's chest.

Peeta was again rubbing the back of his head with his hand, a look on his face like he was trying to remember something important.

"Dr. Aurelius said it was helping, you being back," Katniss said after a long silence. She didn't mention how the doctor had said it was good for Peeta to be around her.

"Yeah," Peeta agreed. "I remember a lot, but sometimes it's confusing." He laughed at himself, lightening the mood. They started walking down the path again.

"After the games," he said after a while, "you didn't really love me?" His voice rose at the ending, questioning. Katniss felt a pang of guilt.

"There was a time where I did pretend," Katniss began. She spoke earnestly, finding no reason to lie to him. "But then we were together going to the Quarter Quell and it was confusing and I _did_ feel something. Then you were taken by the Capitol and all I wanted was you back. But then…"

"I came back different," he finished to her statement.

"Yeah, " she agreed in a sad tone.

They walked the rest of the way back to the Victor's Village in silence, Peeta with a thoughtful look on his face. Katniss was relieved that at least one question no longer stood between them, but regretful that she had to honestly admit that the "love" she had had for him during and shortly after the games was a ruse. But Peeta noticed that she looked at him differently now. What did that mean? Of course her attitude toward him had changed with all that had taken place. But was that a good or bad thing?

It was late, and when Katniss and Peeta entered her kitchen they found a note from Greasy Sae. There was a pot on the stove and a pan of potatoes covered in tin foil on the counter. The two heated the food hungrily in the oven and on the stove, then served themselves. Katniss felt almost shy sitting next to Peeta at the kitchen counter without Greasy Sae eyeing her.

Katniss felt more at ease once they had both eaten and were washing the dishes together. Well, Katniss was washing the dishes, then handing them to Peeta, dishtowel in hand, for him to dry. She didn't mind their proximity, or when her soapy hand brushed his or when their legs touched briefly. Peeta remedied the quiet by listing all the things that would be for sampling, and for sale, at the grand opening the next day. Katniss was amazed at the long list of items, realizing just how busy Peeta had been, and just how busy he was going to be. Peeta left briefly to check on his house, coming back smelling faintly of smoke. Katniss almost admitted relief when he decided to stay on her couch again that night.

Katniss almost floated upstairs that night, a feeling she couldn't quite place coursing through her. Peeta, who claimed he couldn't sleep because he was too nervous about the grand opening, stayed up late watching recordings of the games. Katniss, her head against her pillow, could make out the louder parts of the games – the cannons going off to announce a death, some of the more brutal killings. She was soon lulled to sleep, however, and spent the night nightmare-free.

The next morning went by in a whirl, Peeta scrambling to get ready to head to the bakery. Staying up too late the night before, he had finally fallen asleep and slept longer than he intended to, Katniss finding him slumbering peacefully on the couch, one leg hanging off, when she made her way downstairs. Greasy Sae stayed in one corner of the kitchen, avoiding the chaos of Peeta getting ready and hastily eating breakfast before bursting through the back door, heading to town. Katniss had to stifle her laughter before he left, but let it out once he was gone. Even Greasy Sae cracked a smile though she made a noise of disapproval.

Katniss ate her breakfast in no hurry, savoring the bacon and eggs and orange juice. After she helped Greasy Sae clean up the kitchen, she headed to the shower. She let the warm water wash over her skin and stepped out feeling renewed. She used the medicated cream and got dressed slowly. She stood in front of her bathroom mirror and was surprised to see someone closely resembling the image she had of herself looking back. Her face was much improved from months ago. There were no hollow cheeks or impossibly dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was growing back out long and thick though she still had missing spots. Her eyes were brighter than they had ever been since Prim's death, and her lips were pink instead of colorless and chapped as they had been before.

She had pulled on a pair of pants and a plain tunic, but changed her mind and fished in her closet for something different. A light blue dress, much like the one her mother had given her to wear to the Reaping, stood out to her. She put on the dress, only feeling slightly ridiculous, then spent some time braiding her hair and attempting to pin it up in an elaborate style. It took her several tries to get her hair right, not having her mother or Prim to fix the back for her, but once it was passable, she pinned it in place. She smoothed out her dress and slipped on a pair of flats. Her toes felt slightly pinched in them since she was so used to going barefoot or wearing her hunting boots.

Katniss was grateful for the warm spring sun as she walked to town in her thin dress. Only a few people were out at that time of day. She hoped there would be a good turnout at the opening of the bakery, for Peeta's sake. With his diligence and amicable nature, she was sure all the townsfolk would be there.

It was such a beautiful morning, and Katniss found herself singing softly as she neared the edge of town. Right away she could tell there was quite the crowd at the bakery, people packed inside and a line forming outside. She stayed near the edge of the crowd until she found an opportunity to slip in, some of the people eyeing her heatedly. The press of people inside the building was almost too much for Katniss, and the smell of baked goods overwhelmed her senses. She calmed when she saw Peeta being swarmed behind the counter. His face lit up when he caught sight of her across the bakery.

It was some time before Peeta was free to come bring Katniss a cookie. Another man took over behind the counter in Peeta's absence. When Katniss gave him a questioning look, Peeta explained.

"That's Marc," Peeta said, "he was good friends with my brothers, spent a lot of the time in the bakery. I hired him to help out." He stopped to greet some other people who had made their way into the bakery and up to Peeta. Katniss was glad he wouldn't be manning the store all by himself.

Peeta ran out of samples by early afternoon and quickly threw another batch of cookies and pastries into the ovens. He was selling out of breads and cakes, people standing in line for an hour just to check out. When the crowd was too much for Katniss, Peeta pulled her a stool near the back of the store, in the doorway to the storeroom. There she sat, taking stock of all the new folks in town, as well as quite a few familiar faces. Greasy Sae came in with her granddaughter, the young girl delighted by the sprinkled cookie Peeta handed her. Haymitch even made an appearance, slinging one arm over Peeta's shoulders, then patting him a little too hard on the back in congratulations. The older man sauntered up to Katniss near the back of the store, pulling a flask from his jacket pocket.

"Nice to see you here, sweetheart," he said wryly.

"Good to see you too, Haymitch," Katniss replied. "It's been a while."

"Oh, you know," Haymitch responded, throwing his arm wildly about in the air as if trying to mime something. What he meant, Katniss had no clue. "I'm just glad to see you two lovebirds back together." He slurred.

Together. Katniss felt some surprise at the word, pondering what the term truly meant. Together. Yes they were together at meals. Yes they sat and talked together, or sat quietly together. But what Haymitch was implying had more meaning behind it. Katniss's thoughts were halted though when Peeta, free again, came to join them.

"He's not bothering you, I hope," Peeta said with mock gruffness, a comical frown on his face.

"_Bothering_ _her_?" Haymitch practically shouted. "You should be asking if _she's_ bothering _me_!" He continued. "I mean, here I was, minding my own business, when _this one_ came along," he said, pointing at Katniss, who scowled at him. "Winning the games and causing a revolution and whatnot!"

"Well, I was there for part of it too," Peeta said, trying to defend Katniss. She knew their mentor was only giving her a hard time though.

"Yeah, my boy," Haymitch continued, "but you're different than her. You're _likeable_." He said with emphasis. Peeta and Katniss laughed aloud at their mentor.

"What?" Haymitch looked between the two. "I was being serious!"

Haymitch left them, waving his arms in mock exasperation. Peeta laughed and let out a sigh of relief, handing Katniss another cookie that he'd been hiding behind his back. She ate it happily, Peeta looking on. He leaned against the back wall, arms folded over his chest, surveying the crowd while his employee manned the cash register. Katniss was content to sit beside him, not saying a word.

"Congratulations," she told him that night over a late dinner in her kitchen. He had slumped down on his stool when he came in from the bakery, exhausted. He perked up when she spoke though, a smile returning to his face.

"You think it went all right?" He asked earnestly.

"Of course," Katniss assured him. "I mean _how much_ stuff did you sell out of?" Peeta laughed quietly in relief, finally picking up his fork to eat after a long day.

After they ate, Peeta went across to his house, Katniss following behind. The image of the smoke-filled house and Peeta's lips on hers flashed before her, and she unsuccessfully tried to push the thought away. The smoke had dissipated and the fresh air from the open windows had cleared out much of the smell. Peeta sat down on the edge of a window seal and sighed in relief.

"Guess I can move back over to my own house." He said. Katniss felt a twinge of loneliness at his statement, but didn't argue.

She helped him close the downstairs windows, neither of them venturing upstairs. They walked quietly back to Katniss's house where Peeta gathered up his things. They slowly made their way back toward the door, Katniss stopping on the top step as Peeta continued down. He turned to face her when he was on the bottom step, looking up at her for once. Katniss stood there, the skirt of her pale blue dress blowing in the breeze. Their eyes met and for a split second Katniss thought he was going to kiss her, again. But he made no move toward her.

"Well, goodnight." Peeta smiled up at her, not moving toward the yard.

"Night," Katniss said softly, turning back into her house and closing the door behind her.

She watched his lone figure, illuminated by moonlight, limp the short distance back to his house, the loss of his presence almost tangible in the air.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** I'm back from vacation and have been up for almost 24 hours flying back, so I apologize if there are typos or whatnot in this chapter. While I was gone I couldn't stop writing and wrote three and a half chapters to this story, so I'll be loading more chapters tomorrow. These are long chapters, so I hope you enjoy! Thanks to all you who have read this story. Please let me know how you like it/don't like it/what you think about the characters, etc.

Katniss slept fitfully that night. Her dreams were hurried and anxious but without any overt nightmares. The moonlight was still streaming in her window when she awoke in the middle of a dream, suddenly wide awake. It was warm in her house and she was sweating beneath her sheets. Finally, she begrudgingly got out of bed to open the window. Luckily hers didn't stick like Peeta's had. She stood at the open window, the cool breeze chilling her skin and making her thin cotton nightgown cling to her. She looked across at the silent house next door, wondering if Peeta was having the same trouble sleeping as she was. She couldn't creep down the stairs to check on him, so she crawled back into her empty bed.

Once the spring air had cooled her off, she fell back into a fitful sleep. A robin, perched on her windowsill, woke her the next morning. The bird, its bright red breast puffed out, was singing wholeheartedly. When Katniss stirred, the bird stopped and tilted its head to look at her before flying off.. The sunlight was warm on her skin as she lay in bed, not wanting to get up.

Down in the kitchen, Greasy Sae was busy at work. Katniss took up her perch on her stool, her chin resting in one hand. Greasy Sae gave the girl a look, but didn't say a word as she fried sausage in a pan. Warm biscuits accompanied the meat and Katniss put the two together, making a kind of sandwich. As good as the food smelled, Katniss only picked at it that morning, Greasy Sae tutting in disapproval before she packed up her things to go.

Having been absent from the forest for the past few days, Katniss pulled on a dark tunic and her hunting boots over her pants. She prepared herself a light lunch and left for the day.

She was sure Peeta was busy working at the bakery that morning, selling his delicious goods. Katniss couldn't bug him every day, and was glad to have some time to herself and to her thoughts. The forest was warm and Katniss found herself shedding her father's old coat quickly, stowing it in a familiar tree hollow to be retrieved later.

She caught three fat rabbits in her snares that day, and a carcass of something unrecognizable that had been snared days ago and picked over by some predator. She reset the snares and made her way to the lake.

Katniss sat for a long time on a boulder near the edge of the lake, bow in hand, watching a mother duck and her twelve ducklings swim around happily. Every day there were things she remembered less - the exact cadence of Prim's voice, the feeling of going to bed night after night with an empty belly, the true color of her father's eyes. Some things she couldn't forget, try as she might - the feel of Rue's lifeless body in her arms, the fear that Peeta might die there, so sick, in that cave, the numbness that stood in place for so many friends she'd lost. Thoughts swarmed her like the mosquitoes she swatted away, as she sat near the lake.

She found a more shaded spot to eat her lunch, scaring a few frogs who splashed noisily into the lake when she jumped down from her perch on the boulder. Her few bites at breakfast had not been enough to sustain such an excursion, so she gladly ate the food she had packed. She spent the rest of the afternoon picking edible greens around the lake shore.

Her pack full in early evening, she headed back to the Victor's Village.

She found Peeta's house still dark. On the front porch of her house, Buttercup sat perched on top of a good-sized cardboard box. The cat stared up as she got closer to the package, making no effort to move. There was a stamp on the side, indicating it was from the Capitol.

"Hungry, Buttercup?" Katniss finally coaxed the lazy cat off the box.

She picked it up finding it lighter than she imagined, and carried it inside, Buttercup at her heels. She set the box on the living room floor and retreated to the kitchen to fix the cat a dish of food. As Buttercup ate his meal hungrily, Katniss turned her attention to the box.

Inside she found a large bound book, blank on the front and the back, with numerous sturdy sheets of parchment that were void of any text.

"A book for your memories," a note card read that she dug out of the box. It was from Dr. Aurelius she knew.

She set the book on a neglected end table, excited that she could show Peeta in a few hours. Of course Prim would be the first entry. Katniss spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the couch, recalling all the things that made her love Prim. The memories were happy ones, but Katniss couldn't help but feel the ache in her chest grow deeper. Prim with her goat Lady.. Prim standing right there with her mother when an injured or sick man or woman came in, acting not the least bit scared. Prim with her shirt tail sticking out. Prim too kind to learn to hunt.

When Greasy Sae made her way in the back door that night, Katniss woke startled, having drifted off to sleep on the couch in the warmth of the evening. She smelled of sweat and dirt and so she retreated upstairs to the shower. When she came downstairs, her wet hair making the back of her thin shirt damp, Peeta was already there, perched on a stool at the kitchen counter.. He look up at her in her disheveled state and Katniss suddenly felt a twinge of self-consciousness. She climbed slowly on to the stool, careful not to sling her wet hair on Peeta, who was sitting near. He was so close that she could feel the warmth of his arm next to hers. It would only on take a slight movement for Katniss to wrap her hand around his, but she resisted, folding her hands in her lap.

She waited til after dinner, both making small talk about their days, to show Peeta the book Dr. Aurelius had sent. They had helped Greasy Sae clean up and then the older woman had left, Peeta heading toward the door a few minutes later.

"Wait," Katniss spoke out as she walked up to him. He had reached out to open the door but stopped at her words, turning around to look at her.

"I've got something to show you," she said, reaching out to take his hand in hers. She pulled him along after her into the living room.

She coaxed Peeta to sit beside her on the couch, a questioning look on his face. She grabbed the blank book and showed him, and recognition flooded his face.

"Dr. Aurelius ordered it." She explained. "I got it this afternoon."

"We can start the book of memories." Peeta said, smiling as he felt of the thick pages.

Katniss ducked her head at his smile, the closeness of him almost too much. Their legs were just inches apart ad Katniss felt the sudden urge to scoot closer to him. She felt like she was out of control, sometimes, when she was around him. She felt like she was falling and there was no way to stop herself. Like the urge to grab his hand earlier at dinner. The urge to have her leg pressed against his.

Peeta looked at her expectantly, and she realized he had been talking to her while she was lost in her own thoughts.

"Hmmm..?" She asked, turning toward him.. Their knees touched, but neither of them made any move to increase the distance between them.

"I was asking when you wanted to start." Peeta repeated himself gently.

"Oh." Katniss smiled, abashed. "Not tonight," she said reluctantly, knowing that there was too much electricity between them for her to concentrate.

"Alright." Peeta said, standing up quickly from the couch. "Tomorrow night it is then."

He smiled down at her, and it took Katniss everything in her power to not lace her hand in his and ask him to stay. They didn't have to work on the book, they didn't have to do anything at all, but Katniss wanted him there with her.. Instead she walked him to the back door and watched as he made his way across the yard. As he was grabbing the door handle to enter his house, she called out to him.

"Peeta," she said, her voice almost trembling. He turned to look at her.

"Tomorrow night then?" She repeated, the true words she wished to speak stuck in her throat. He smiled.

"Tomorrow night," he repeated, then was gone as he shut the door behind him.

Katniss was left staring into the dark night after him.

The next morning, Katniss woke as if the entire day before had been a dream. It had been a pleasant dream, but one from which a person would wake glad it had not truly been real. But when she saw the book sitting there on the edge of the couch where she and Peeta had sat the night before, knees touching, she felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment. Where had the walls she had put up around her heart and mind gone? When had she ever let anyone in other than her mother or Prim or Gale? She had begun to let Peeta in as time had passed, as the Quarter Quell grew closer. That had been in desperation though, with the thought that she was going to her death, or so she told herself. There had always been the lie between them. The lie Katniss had told in the hope that the Capitol would leave them alone. The lie that she had been madly and desperately in love with him. But Peeta's feelings had been true, and he deserved better. Something had begun to bloom deep within her, but whatever might have unfurled, it was plucked too soon when Peeta had been taken captive after the Quarter Quell.

So Katniss lay in bed a long time that morning, letting the sunlight make patterns on her skin as it shone through the curtains. She heard Greasy Sae in the kitchen and wondered if the older woman would come upstairs in search of her if she didn't go down. Eventually she did get out of bed though, and headed into the kitchen.

Greasy Sae was mixing in some mushrooms and wild greens that Katniss had gathered into eggs in the skillet. Katniss eyed the food hungrily as she sat on the stool, the one next to hers vacant. It had stood there vacant at the kitchen counter for months, but now that it was generally occupied by Peeta, it felt much more empty without him. Katniss ate her breakfast in silence as Greasy Sae packed her things.

Katniss had a late start in the woods, but it didn't matter. It was late spring and the forest was teeming with life. She smiled to herself when she discovered a pair of foxes and their three small kits. They eyed her suspiciously as she made a wide circle around their den. She climbed an old oak and sat perched there for much of the afternoon, enjoying the food she had packed. Once she had eaten, she sat there so still and for so long that a few song birds landed on her knee. They tweeted happily to each other, not in the least bit worried about her. When they finally took flight again, Katniss laughed to herself. She imagined going back to tell Prim about the ducklings from the day before or about the tiny little foxes or the birds singing for her. Prim would have been delighted, her blue eyes filled with wonder. Katniss held back tears. Prim would also be happy to know that Buttercup had finally befriended her, whether Katniss liked it or not.

When Katniss had sat in the tree so long that her back was starting to ache, she climbed down carefully, stiffer from sitting than she would like. She stretched her legs on the walk back to the Victor's Village, not in the least bit sorry that she was coming back empty handed. She smelled of dirt and growing things and sweat, and was somewhat reluctant to wash it all away. There was a certain scent one acquired spending as much time in the woods as she did, and it wasn't altogether unpleasant. But Katniss showered anyway, the warm water beckoning her. Standing in the shower she took stock of her skin, or as much of it as she could see. Pink and red lines tattooed her back and arms where she had been burned the worst. Some of her skin was her own - soft and olive in tone. Much bigger patches were shiny and white and appeared to be stretched too tight. Others were a delicate pink - those were the patches that had bled at first when she had been too rough with her skin. She knew that most, faced with her situation, would think themselves ruined. But Katniss looked at her skin, remembered the blast from the bomb and Peeta right there and how the flames had engulfed them, and knew that she would wear her scars as a lasting memorial to Prim and all those who had been lost. She was not ruined, she was just different. Different but alive.

She took extra time after the shower to rub the medicated creams on her skin. True, it did not look as gruesome as it had months ago, but she knew she still had months to go before her scars fully matured. Would her grief have lessened by then, Katniss thought to herself as she got dressed, avoiding the mirror. But she realized that her grief was not the same as it had been months ago. It was not so sharp, not so immobilizing. It was still present, but it had changed to something she was slowly learning to live with. Katniss had sulked around like her mother had done years before, but there had been no one there to jolt Katniss out of the spell grief had woven around her. No one there to yell at her and tell her to get out of bed and get dressed and go on with life. Instead she had slowly pulled herself out of her own sorrow and had started to recognize the world around her. It would soon be summer and it would do no good to wallow.

Downstairs, Katniss straightened up the living room to pass the time. She found the plant book where it had been set and carefully stowed it on a long neglected book case. Buttercup watched her from the top of a seldom-used arm chair. She found cleaning supplies in a closet near the kitchen and spent time dusting, starting with the mantle. Her mother had spent more time decorating the house than Katniss ever had, and more time cleaning it as well. She must have been the one to neatly place the few photos there were of the family on the stone mantle. Katniss picked up a frame with an old picture of her father in it, wiping its edges carefully with her dust rag. He couldn't have been much older than she was now, his face already hardened from working in the mines. Katniss smiled at the resemblance, his stoic features mirroring hers. When he had been alive it was difficult to tell beyond the obvious coloring, since Katniss was still young with soft features. Now that she was older though there was no mistaking the likeness - the curve of her jaw, the angle of her cheekbones, the pout on her lips. It was staring back at her in masculine form. She even had the same expressions, her neutral face more of a frown and a narrowing of her eyes.

Beside the photo of her father was one of her standing next to a bassinet. It had been taken just a few days after Prim was born, Katniss knew, and Katniss searched the bald head and round cheeks for any sign of the Prim she had known. She dusted the photo and moved on, finding one of Prim at about six or seven years old. She was wearing a dark dress and Katniss recognized it from around the time their father had died. A friend of their mother's had taken photos at the small ceremony where the families of the miners killed in the explosion had been awarded medals. Their mother had boxed up all the photos save the one of Prim. Regardless of the circumstances, it was a good photo. Katniss set the picture frame down off the mantle, planning to take it to her room that night.

Katniss dusted the rest of the room with quiet determination. Buttercup and grown bored of watching Katniss and was napping on the back of the chair. After dusting, Katniss swept the wooden floor, the muscles in her back and arms developed from years of shooting a bow making the task an easy one.

By the time she was putting the cleaning supplies away, Greasy Sae was letting herself in the back door. The older woman gave her a look as she set her things on the counter and Katniss wanted to remark that she could be domestic when she wanted to, but instead kept her mouth shut. Katniss eyed the large pot on the stove as greasy Sae turned on the burner to warm it.

It wasn't long before Peeta came in the back door, his face flushed from the bright springtime sun. He was back early from the bakery and Katniss hoped nothing was wrong. A slight smile was playing on his face though, so Katniss didn't worry for long. He set two fresh, round loaves of bread on the counter and Greasy Sae eyed them approvingly.

Over rabbit stew, Peeta explained that Marc had offered to close up shop for the evening, hence his early return to the Victor's Village. Katniss told Peeta about the foxes she had seen, along with the birds that had landed right on her knee. Peeta's eyes grew slightly wider as he listened, and he looked much younger than his scarred appearance would lead anyone to believe.

"Were you singing?" Peeta laughed and asked Katniss once she had assured him the story was true.

"Singing..?" She asked, perplexed.

"Yeah, you know, singing," Peeta teased her. She wrinkled her nose at him and took a bite of stew.

"Because all the birds in the forest would have to figure out who was out-singing them..." Peeta said, the teasing tone gone from his voice.

Katniss felt the ache in her chest turn into a sharp, searing pain. She thought of her father - the handsome young man in the photograph - and how her mother would tell her and Prim that when their father sang, all the birds in the forest would stop to listen. Her mother, growing up in town, who might have had a different life if she had married the baker who was sweet on her. Instead she fell in love with a man from the Seam and never regretted a moment of it. But now the memories were too painful to return, even to see her only surviving daughter. Katniss also thought of Peeta and how he had so vividly remembered her singing at school, how he had paid extra attention to her from then on until a crush had turned into something more. Until she had kissed him hundreds of times in hundreds of different ways, but had only truly felt anything behind a few. Until he had been taken away from her and then been rescued and all she wanted was to run into his arms and kiss him and mean it, only to have him hate her.

She felt as if she were choking on her stew even though she had swallowed her bite. The singing, that was from before. Did he remember it? Or had the conversation when she told him about her father and his voice been recorded for him to re-watch? Did it matter?

"Somethin' wrong with the stew..?" Geasy Sae said with a long drawl as she eyed Katniss's pained expression. Katniss cleared her throat and shook her head.

"Oh no," she assured the older woman. "It's delicious." She felt her cheeks grow warm as both Peeta and Greasy Sae watched her. Greasy Sae half-shrugged and then turned back to her work cleaning the stovetop.

"Do you remember that, about the singing, or is it something you watched on one of the videos?" Katniss managed to ask Peeta softly a few moments later. She stared at her bowl of rabbit stew as if it were the most interesting thing in the room, refusing to look directly at him.

"I do remember some things, Katniss," Peeta responded after a minute in thought. "Some of it I have seen from the tapes. Like you singing in the games," he left out how it was as Rue lay dying, "of course I wasn't there for that."

"Your father sang," Peeta contined, "and your mother fell in love with him instead of my dad." He spoke more as if he were reassuring himself than talking to her.

"You remember?" Katniss spoke softly, turning to look at him, her stew growing cold.

"Yeah," he said, his thoughtful look turning into one of delight, a wide grin spreading across his face, "I do remember that."

Greasy Sae had packed up quietly and exited the back door as Peeta grinned at Katniss.

"You sang at the school assembly," he said, his voice rising at the end as if he were just remembering it. Katniss nodded.

Peeta spent the next few hours trying to coax a song from Katniss. She refused good-naturedly every time he asked - as they washed the dishes, when they made their way to the living room, when Katniss came back from retrieving pens and pencils to use on the book of memories. Each time Katniss shook her head, a slight smile playing on her lips at first, until a look of half annoyance played on her face. The fifth and final time he asked her to sing, she quieted him by placing her hand on his and she spoke a firm "no." He turned his hand so that her palm was in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Then he let go and Katniss was almost sad, except that she needed her hand to work on the book.

At first Katniss had stared at the blank page, unsure of what to write. Peeta sat beside her, sketching various images of Prim on spare paper. When Peeta saw her hesitation, he spoke.

"Don't know what to write?" He asked between sketches. Katniss nodded.

"There's just so much," she replied, "but even then it's not enough. I mean, it's Prim." 'She was everything,' Katniss thought to herself.

"Maybe start with the basics and go from there." Peeta suggested. "I mean it's like baking a cake. You have the flour and eggs and sugar and oil and butter, the staples. Then you mix em together and then bake it. Then it comes out of the oven and you decorate it..." His voice trailed off and he laughed. "Does that even make sense?" He asked, abashed.

"Yeah it does," Katniss said, offering him a genuine smile.

So she started with the basics. Prim's date of birth, her family members, a sentence about her goat Lady, a blurb about Buttercup. Then she wrote about Prim helping their mother and wanting to be a doctor, becoming a medic in District 13. Katniss had left a large portion of the page open for Peeta to draw Prim, but the rest of the page was filled with writing. Katniss flipped the thick page and filled up a large part of the back of the page with more memories of Prim.

They worked on Prim's pages - for Katniss's writing has spilled over onto multiple pages - until late in the night. Katniss surveyed Peeta's rough sketches on the scratch paper and they agreed on a drawing of Prim, her hair in braids, petting Lady. Katniss felt hot tears blur her vision as she stared at the sketch, Peeta watching her anxiously.

"It's perfect," Katniss said, wiping away the few tears that had spilled over.

Katniss handed the book to Peeta, who began sketching. Her body protested being awake at such and hour and she stifled a yawn. She rested her head on the back of the couch, telling herself she was only closing her eyes for a moment.

She awoke with a start some time later. It was near dawn she could tell, for gray light shone through the curtains. She was disoriented for a moment, then she realized she was still on the couch, but spread out and covered with a blanket. There was no sign of Peeta, but Katniss saw the book resting on the coffee table across from her. She pulled the book toward her and caught sight of Peeta 's sketch.

There, drawn with a steady hand, was Prim, exactly how Katniss remember her. The features on her face still soft, in her eyes a kindness beyond her years. Beside the open book was a note penned in a piece of scratch paper.

"Hope you like the sketch. You were asleep when I finished and I didn't want to wake you. See you tomorrow - Peeta," it read.

She laid back down on the couch, covering herself in the blanket. Still clutching his note, she feel asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Another long chapter, sorry! But I really do like how this chapter turned out, and think you will too! So please read and review! And thanks to those who have already left their feedback!

* * *

She woke to the smell of bacon wafting from the kitchen and the sound of dishes clattering. She pushed back her hair from her face and climbed off the couch, her body protesting.

Greasy Sae gave her a look but didn't say anything as Katniss took up her perch on the kitchen stool wearing her clothes from the night before, but much more wrinkled.

After breakfast Katniss made a call to Dr. Aurelius, thanking him for the book and supplies. The phone call was brief and Katniss was relieved that he didn't press her for anything else. She knew it was too early to call her mother, she would be busy on her shift in District 4. She stared at the book, knowing that she would have to wait for Peeta to work on it any more.

Late in the morning she finally changed out of her clothes from the day before and into fresh clothes for a day in the woods.

She checked her snares and found a lone rabbit. She spent the most of the afternoon on target practice, finally shooting four squirrels, each straight through the eye. A part of her felt lonely, being out in the forest by herself. So much of her time had been spent with Gale. But then everything had changed. It was much like the time period after the games, when Gale had been busy working the mines and Katniss had no chiice but to hunt alone. When she had been ignoring Peeta's very existence. But now she had an in-between life. She existed in the fragile balance between the world she had known before, fresh memories of providing for her mother and Prim by hunting, and the world she had been thrust head first into after the games. The world between numbness and feeling all the emotions that threatened to overflow.

She hoped creating the book of memories would help her move forward even further than she already had. She knew the months she had spent as a lump on her couch were over. She just wasn't sure what was ahead.

She came up on the lake again and circled it, climbing to a high ridge above it. The air was cooler the higher she went and she was shaded from the sun in the dense foliage. She thought about the approaching summer and remembered all the sweat-soaked summers she had spent hunting. Some days it had been so hot she had gone back to her old house defeated, empty-handed. Nothing would stir in that kind of heat. But those days were too hot to eat much anyway, and she and Prim would lay about the house, stripped down to their underclothes, praying for a cool wind to blow through the windows.

Katniss climbed a tree at the top of the ridge. She went as high as she could go without fear of the branch snapping beneath her. From that height she had a perfect view of the forest - all its hills, the lake, little streams - all the way to town, where she could make out the road and buildings in the distance, smoke curling up from some of the chimneys. The cool spring air was fierce up that high, but Katniss didn't mind. She could make out the Victor's Village in the distance as well, and she tried to pick out her house among the few unoccupied ones.

She sat up in the tree for quite some time. No birds landed on her like the day before, but she did spot a hawk circling in the distance and watched it for a while. She laughed to herself when she thought of Peeta trying to get her to sing the night before. Despite all that had happened, all the heartache that stood between them, Peeta was surprisingly the same.

The same as he'd always been. Of course there were subtle differences, especially in how he acted toward her, but in his personality and demeanor, little had changed despite what the Capitol had done to him.

Inside her a small, delicate blossom of hope bloomed.

When the sun was diving toward the west, Katniss climbed down the tree and hiked down the ridge.

It was getting dark by the time she made her way through the back door, Greasy Sae already at the stove. Katniss handed over the rabbit and squirrels and Greasy Sae nodded approvingly.

Katniss took a quick shower and returned downstairs to find Peeta seated at the kitchen counter. They had another round of rabbit stew, this time over a bed of wild rice. They ate in amicable silence as Greasy Sae watched them.

The dishes had been put away and Katniss and Peeta were sitting next to each other on the couch.. Katniss had the book balanced in her lap as Peeta leaned over to re-read what she had written about Prim. His face was close to hers and so she studied him while his eyes were elsewhere. His blond hair was thick and quite a bit longer than it had been before the Quarter Quell, though it look as if not by intent. The way he was leaning down to read Katniss's small, precise script, his hair fell over his forehead and she had the urge to brush it out of the way so she could see his scars. His jawline was angled as it had always been and his lips - the ones she'd kissed so many times - were pursed in concentration. His thick lashes obscured his eyes, but Katniss knew she could never forget their color - blue as the sky on a clear summer day. Peeta turned the page, continuing to read, oblivious of her stare.

When it looked as if Peeta were nearing the end of her writing, Katniss focused her attention on the book so that he wouldn't catch her eyeing him.

"I feel like I know her," Peeta spoke with soft reverence, looking directly at Katniss.

Katniss touched the pages dedicated to Prim gently, not knowing how to respond.

"Who should be next?" Peeta asked a few minutes later. Katniss thought for a moment before responding.

"Let's make the next entry be about your dad," Katniss spoke as lightheartedly as possible. She braced herself for Peeta's reaction, unsure of how raw his grief was. Peeta stared at the blank page before him and for a long moment Katniss worried that she had misspoken.

Without a word, though, Peeta took up a pen and started writing, having shifted the book into his lap. Katniss watched intently as he worked. After he filled the first page, leaving room for a sketch, he stopped, setting the pen down and cracking his knuckles.

"Can I read it?" Katniss asked slowly, surveying his face for any look of sorrow or anger.

"Yeah," he replied, handing her the book and reaching for some scratch paper. He wasn't smiling, but he wasnt crying either.

Katniss read the entry as Peeta sketched his father amidst their bakery. Peeta had written stories about his father's specialties in the bakery, his failed attempts at new recipes, his fierce love for his children. Peeta had even written a few sentences about how his father would trade bread for squirrels. It made her think of the four squirrels she'd shot dead in the eye earlier that day. With a pang of loss she thought about how it would be now if things had worked out differently, walking up to the back of the bakery to trade for the delicious fresh bread.

Peeta was still busy sketching when Katniss finished reading. From what he had written, she felt like she had a better sense of where Peeta came from, how he had grown up. Peeta's father had been hard working and kind, and it was reflected in his youngest son.

"Your father," Katniss spoke, breaking the silence. Peeta stopped drawing and looked up at her. "He brought me cookies when they let people visit, on the day of the Reaping." Peeta looked away from her for a moment.

"I just don't remember if I ever told you that or not." Katniss said. Peeta took a deep breath and gave her a pained half smile. He handed her a pen and nodded toward the book. Katniss set to work adding to the entry, feeling a sense of peace that Peeta would let her write about a man she hardly knew. Once she was done concentrating on the entry, Peeta spoke up.

"It's just, you know, after everything that happened. After the games and then being picked for the Quell, I always thought it would be the other way around. I thought that my parents and brothers would be here, learning to go on without me. I never thought that I would survive and none of them would." He told her, his words filled with pain.

He turned his face from her and buried his head in his hands. Silence fell around them like a spell. Katniss let Peeta have a moment to himself, then she reached over and placed her hands around his wrists, pulling on his arms so that he had to look up. He didn't resist and let his arms fall onto his legs. Katniss slid her hands up so that they wrapped around his. She looked from his hands to his face as he stared off, a far away look in his eyes. He blinked and then looked at her. He didn't smile but he did squeeze her hands in his, reassuringly. He held on to her for quite some time, as if she were the only thing anchoring him to the real world.

The moment of grief passed, though, as Peeta's features softened and his tense body relaxed.. He sighed and gave Katniss a half smile, releasing her hands too soon for her liking. He resumed his sketch as Katniss watched silently.

Once the final drawing of his father had been added to the book, Peeta stood up from the couch and stretched. Katniss walked him to the back door, bidding him goodnight softly as he made his way down the steps. On the bottom step he paused and turned to face her.

"I'm sorry," he said, a sheepish grin on his face, one hand behind his head, ruffling his hair. "About earlier."

And before Katniss could think of anything to say, he was off, striding the short distance to his house, only a slight limp noticeable.

And so it became a nightly ritual for them, no matter how tired they were after dinner, to spend time working on the book. Peeta worked at the bakery all day, while Katniss hunted or trapped or just explored the forest. But at night they were together for longer than just the evening meal.

One night, Peeta brought over a flimsy cardboard box and set it down on the coffee table. Katniss looked at him questioningly, but he just smiled and nodded toward the box. In it, she found countless photographs, along with yellowing newspaper clippings and old pamphlets and fliers from years passed. Katniss and Peeta picked through the photos, some of which were as recent as the Victory Tour. Others were obviously old family photos. Katniss grinned at one of a chubby blond-headed baby that must have been Peeta.

"I forgot all about these," Peeta exclaimed, his voice full of excitement at his discovery. Katniss couldn't hold back a smile to see him so enthusiastic.

"Dr. Aurelius had these collected for me," he continued. "It was supposedly part of my therapy, to help me remember things, but..." His voice trailed off.

"But what?" Katniss couldn't help but ask. She was curious to know why his tone had changed.

"I really think he just wanted me to have these." He said, picking up a handful of his family photos. "It's really all that was salvaged from the rubble, I was told."

Katniss didn't respond. She could imagine the workers digging through the ruins of the bakery, finding cracked picture frames and bits of china and glassware. She didn't want to think about them finding the bodies. When she looked at Peeta he had a distant look in his eyes and she knew he was probably thinking the same thing. She placed her hand over his and he looked up at her.

"Can I see?" She asked, her hand still clutching his. He let her take the photos from him and she set them out carefully on the coffee table.

There was one of Peeta, probably six or seven and on his first day of school, holding a satchel and standing in front of the bakery. There was another shot of the whole family, probably when Peeta was eleven or twelve, his older brothers dwarfing him as they stood together. The third photo was of his parents on their wedding day.. Katniss suddenly remembered a similar picture of her parents. She remembered finding it in the same box with the plant book and her father's jacket and her bow and arrows around the time the primroses had been planted.

Katniss was off the couch and opening the downstairs closet before Peeta could even question her. He stared at her from across the room, perplexed. She found the box, now void of most of its contents, on the top shelf of the closet. On her tiptoes, she reached up to grab it and bring it down. She almost jumped when she realized Peeta was standing right beside her, arms reached up as well. His warm body was touching hers in the narrow doorway to the closet and she could feel his breath on her cheek. She let him help her with the box and he laughed when he felt how light it was.

"Well I guess you didn't need my help after all," he said, smiling as he lifted the box up and down a few times to demonstrate its lightness.

"It's ok," Katniss laughed as well.

Peeta let her explore the box herself, standing beside her as she knelt on the floor. She procured her parents' wedding photo proudly, showing it to Peeta. He smiled at the photo while she continued digging in the box. She pulled out the spile from the Quarter Quell and tossed it to a curious Peeta, who caught it and looked it over.

"Remember that thing?" Katniss asked in a tone that indicated she didn't wish to relive the clock arena and not that his memory might fail him.

"Yeah..." Peeta said, still staring at the spile. "For water, right? From the trees?" He asked. She nodded, then returned to the box.

She paused when she saw what was left. The locket Peeta had given her. The ache in her chest was a spear through her heart.

"Do you remember this?" She asked softly, holding up the locket for him to see.

He sat on the floor beside her and took the locket. He clicked it open, and the expression on his face changed slowly from investigation to dawning realization. His mouth went slack and to Katniss it was almost as if he were having a flashback without the rage.

"You still have this..?" He asked, his voice soft.

"I wish I knew what I'd done with the pearl," Katniss said, her thoughts wandering to the other precious gift he'd given her.

Peeta was unusually quiet the rest of the night as they sorted through the photos and found ones to add to their book. Katniss could have laughed at the ones of her from their tour. There she was in beautiful clothes from the capitol, scowling at the camera when she wasn't posing with Peeta. The ones of her and Peeta were almost as hard to look at as those of people who were no longer living. In those photos she had her arm in his or was holding his hand, smiling. There was one of her sitting in his lap and her cheeks flushed when she saw it. She couldn't place the expression on his face as he looked at the same photos. She saw another of them kissing and the color on her face rose even more.

Peeta had those photos in his hand when he finally spoke, choosing to look at them instead of her.

"During the tour and leading up to the Quell, we were pretty close..." He began.

"Yeah," Katniss replied slowly, not sure what he was trying to ask, if anything.

"We, uh, spent nights together, on the train?" He asked. His words hit her like a rock in the stomach. He looked at her when she didn't answer.

"Part of it, it was for show," Katniss began once she had composed herself. She motioned toward the photos of them in front of crowds kissing or hugging, huge smiles plastered on their faces. "But we both had horrible nightmares and it was just easier to sleep next to each other, for comfort." At once Katniss was sorry for how basic her explanation seemed, but she didn't know how else to explain it. There had been longing, yes, but it had been overshadowed by pain and guilt.

"Oh..." Peeta said, a thoughtful look on his face. He went back to staring at the photos, silent for a moment.

"Nothing else..?" He finally asked, redness creeping up behind his ears. Katniss felt her stomach flip at his question, her face burning.

"Just kissing." She managed to say, refusing to look at him.

"The Capitol, when they hijacked me, they made me think there had been more." Peeta explained, looking at anything but Katniss. "I'm sorry," he said, ruffling the hair on the back of his head.

Katniss kept her head bowed for a long moment, waiting for her face to turn back to its normal shade of olive. Of course the Capitol had twisted his memories and used them against him. It was not a wonder they had made him believe she had used him.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again. "I just didn't remember. The fake memories they fed me, I'm better now at figuring them out. There's something...off...about them, like it was a dream and not real. But something like that," he continued, finally looking at her, "if it had really happened between us, I'd have wanted to remember it."

The blush crept back up Katniss's throat and she remembered kissing him on the beach during the Quarter Quell, a hunger welling up inside of her.

"So..." He started again and Katniss braced herself for what he might ask. "There was no baby..?"

"No." She shook her head, ashamed at the lies they had told to win favor with the crowds. "We made that up."

"Oh ok." Peeta said, seeming somewhat relieved. "The Capitol, they made me believe it was true." He said, pain finding its way back into his voice. "Only the baby, it wasn't mine. It was Gale's," he said all in a rush.

Katniss's head spun. Her stomach did another flip and she felt as if she couldn't breathe. What other monstrously cruel things had they planted in Peeta's head? No wonder he had come back trying to kill her. She thought about Gale, now in a far away district with a good job, and anger surged up inside her. He was the one who had been angry with the government, spewing his discontent to her whenever they were alone together in the woods. He was the real crusader, a fire inside of him blazing bright. He should have been the Mockingjay, not her. She hadn't wanted to lead a revolution. She hadn't even wanted to get married, to ever have children, but there was Gale, trying to convince her to run away with him. And now he couldn't even face her, couldn't even come to tell her himself that he wasn't going back, though at the time she probably would have clawed his eyes out had she seen him. Hot tears welled up in her eyes.

"Katniss...?" Peeta asked when he saw that she was so upset. She didn't respond, her face wrinkled with rage.

"I'm sorry." Peeta said after a minute, a look of uncertainty on his face. Katniss was stubbornly trying to will the tears away, but her emotions weren't obeying.

With a long, wracking sob she turned and buried her head in his neck, her hands curled into fists finding his chest. He let out a short sigh and wrapped his arms around her. She let herself cry for a long time, her sobs coming one after the other. After a while, she quieted down, sniffling instead of crying. Sitting on the floor, she realized she was basically in his lap after throwing herself at him, crying. She willed her cheeks to not turn red.

They finally extricated themselves from each other, Katniss wiping her nose on her sleeve discourteously, Peeta's hands resting on the sides of her arms. He bent his head closer to hers, trying to force her to look him in the eye. She blinked a few times, knowing she must look a puffy, awful mess from crying. She laughed at herself out loud and looked at him. Peeta smiled at her, their faces close.

"I'm sorry," she said, laughing a little.

"No, I'm sorry," Peeta replied, his hands still on her arms. "I'm the one who brought it up, I shouldn't have..."

"No," she cut him off quickly. His eyes grew wider. "You deserve to know the truth," she told him emphatically. "Nothing like that ever happened between me and Gale. I promise."

Peeta relaxed a little, his hands sliding down to rest on her forearms.

"It's just..." Katniss started, unsure if she could say the words aloud. "It's just, the bombs. The bombs that killed all those kids, and Prim," the tears started again, delicately streaming down her face. Peeta listened intently, holding her wrists in his warm hands. "It was Gale, Gale and Beetee who designed them," she confessed, another round of sobs threatening to surge from her.

"Oh Katniss, I'm so sorry." Peeta said, a look of genuine pain on his face. He leaned toward her, his hands moving from her wrists to encircle her waist.

They embraced again, this time her arms going around his neck. She was quiet this time, her head resting on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Peeta whispered in her ear. "I...I didn't know."

Katniss pulled back from their embrace to look at him, her arms still around his neck, his hands on her waist. When she shifted, her shirt rose ever so slightly and she felt the warmth of his hands on the bare skin of her waist. In one swift movement she leaned forward and her lips met his.

She felt him tense in surprise for half a second, then he tightened his grip on her and kissed her back.

All of the emotions that had welled up inside of her, she channeled into the kiss. Her grief over Prim, her raw anger at Gale, the guilt she felt about how she had treated Peeta, it all rose up inside her and overflowed until she was kissing him with such fervor and urgency that she felt like she would burst. Her hands were in his hair, then sliding down his back and lower and lower until she felt the edge of his shirt. She took hold of the bottom of his shirt and moved to pull it up when suddenly strong hands were on her wrists, stopping her. Peeta pulled away from the kiss slowly, depositing her hands back into her own lap. He brushed her hair behind one ear and rested his hand near her jaw. She looked up at him, still breathing heavy.

"Katniss, you're upset," he said gently. At once she felt embarrassed, knowing that she was using him to re-route her emotions. But he had kissed her back, and there was something there. She felt it, not deep within her any longer, but now trembling right beneath the surface.

"I've got to go," he said, his hand still cupping her face. He leaned forward and gave her a chaste kiss on her forehead. She didn't follow him as he left, shutting the back door tightly behind him. Instead, she climbed the stairs and curled up in bed, fully clothed, her hands brushing over her lips where his had been.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Ok, another long chapter, but a fun one! Now I need to go work on finishing chapter 11 so I can keep updating! Thanks for all of you out there who have stuck with this story. It's still going strong! And thanks for the reviews! Comments are always welcome and appreciated.

* * *

For the next few days, Katniss felt some intangible barrier between her and Peeta had been broken. Whether he felt the same thing or not, he didn't let on.

Spring gave way to summer, the cool breezes turning into humid stillness. Katniss and Peeta worked diligently on their book of memories, pasting in photos and other trinkets to remind them of those loved lost - a soft blue ribbon clipped to Prim's page, a sketch of a dress Katniss found while rummaging through the bookshelf was pinned onto Cinna's entry, and so on til the book would hardly shut for the memories it contained. Katniss liked it that way, bursting with dedication and love. There were tears aplenty such that some sentences had to be re-written for the smudged words. There weren't many kisses though, just a peck on the cheek when Peeta brought her beautifully frosted cookies or when he drew a particularly skillful sketch of someone they loved.

At some point Haymitch started eating over more, Katniss speculating that he'd run out of liquor and was in debt to Peeta for restocking his supply. She thought she had heard extra loud shouting and curses coming from his house lately. She just laughed off the noise but their new neighbors, folks who had moved in to the Victor's Village from other Districts, didn't appreciate the disturbance of the peace. So Haymitch showed up to dinner smelling of liquor and sour clothes and even Greasy Sae wrinkled her nose at him. However surly he acted, he was particularly gentle with Greasy Sae's granddaughter, often crawling on the floor to play with her. He ate the older woman's cooking though and complimented her, and Peeta for the bread, although begrudgingly. He would stare at Katniss when she crossed her arms at him, throw up his hands and shout a "what?" in her direction. Of course he wouldn't thank her for the meat she had provided to make the meal.

After a few weeks, she decided to show Haymitch the book of memories. He had realized that Peeta was staying over after dinner each evening - which he wouldn't let either of them live down when he first realized it - and became curious as to what they were truly up to, knowing that despite his taunts, they weren't cuddled on the couch watching romantic movies. So Katniss lead him into the living room one summer night after one of Greasy Sae's filling meals and showed the book to him. He wrinkled his nose at first, much in the same way she did when showing dislike, and scoffed at her.

"Waste of time I say." He grumbled, half stumbling to the back door. "There's better things you two could be spending your time doing," he said with a laugh. Katniss couldn't stop the blush that crept up her neck as she slammed the door in his face. She silently hoped the geese would chase him home.

Peeta started taking one day a week off from working at the bakery. He had hired a young married couple who had moved into the Victor's Village from District 11. They had some experience with cooking and baking, and he paid them, along with Marc, and exorbitant amount. Beyond the supplies he needed for the bakery and his painting, Peeta had no use of his money. And the bakery was thriving. So he took time off for himself. Some days he stayed at his house, painting. Other days he spent with Katniss, working on the book together or just sitting around her house, doing nothing in particular.

The evening primrose bushes bloomed and Katniss picked one of the delicate blossoms to press between pages in the book.

She got the idea from summers long passed, and wasn't surprised when a box arrived from the Capitol one hot day. Peeta stood beside her, perplexed, as she opened the package. She pulled out two items of clothing with a triumphant grin, waving them around for Peeta to see.

"Swimming suits!" she exclaimed, thrusting a pair of dark blue shorts in his direction. Hers was red and looked like some sort of athletic leotard to him.

"I kind of borrowed a pair of your pants to get the size right," she told him, a look of mock guilt on her face. He folded his arms across his chest, still holding the swim trunks.

"Mhmm, 'borrowed'?" he said. "More like stole." He laughed when she threw the pair of pants she had procured from upstairs at his head and missed.

So on his next day off she lead him deep into the forest and to the lake. She had to remind herself not to wince every time his feet crashed down on the forest floor, scaring off every animal within a mile radius. But they weren't hunting or in the games, so she stopped herself from chiding him. It took much longer to reach the body of water than if she were alone, but Peeta was slower with his prosthetic leg and unease in the woods. She set their packs and towels on a boulder near the lake and waited for him to catch up. She could almost picture herself, years younger, swimming circles around her father, him laughing and splashing her. This had been her place, she hadn't even shared the significance of it with Gale. But having Peeta here felt right. It didn't break the spell.

"Wow, it's beautiful here," he said as he stood beside her on the lake shore.

"Yeah, this is where I learned to swim. I was so young I don't even remember. It's like I've always known how to swim." she told him, watching a few ducks preen themselves across the lake.

She pulled off her clothes, her red suit underneath, and climbed to a ledge above a deeper part of the lake. She positioned herself with her toes hanging over the edge of the rocky outcropping and dived gracefully into the water. The lake was still cool from the spring rains but it felt good on her skin. She swam under water, stretching out her muscles, and resurfaced near where Peeta was standing. He smiled at her.

"Show off," he said and ducked as she splashed him.

"Come in!" she called out to him, treading water.

She watched unabashedly as he pulled off his shirt, revealing the scared skin beneath. His blond hair shone in the sunlight and he had to brush it out of his eyes.

"You need a hair cut." she told him and he looked up at her. "You know there's a barbershop like two stores down from the bakery."

"Yeah yeah," he said wading carefully into the lake from the shore. "I was planning on growing it out so I could braid it like yours," he joked.

"Oh real funny," she said, but couldn't help laughing.

She swam nearer to him, to where her feet touched the muddy bottom. He waded in chest deep and stood, looking at her. She coaxed him a little deeper, where the water was to his chin and she had to tread water next to him. She spent the next hour or so teaching him how to tread water, having him practice for longer periods of time once he understood the technique. Then she showed him how to put his face in the water and pull his arms one over the other into a stroke. Peeta was a fast learner, but the weight of his prosthetic leg made his technique a little sloppy. Katniss was patient with him though, giving him encouragement when he struggled.

Soon enough he was following her around the lake, from one side to the other, and not drowning. They had scared all the waterfowl away though, so it was quiet around the lake. After they both were breathing heavy from the swimming, they climbed out onto the shore and found a flat shelf of rock to set their towels on. They lay side by side for some time, letting the summer sun warm their skin.

When Katniss's stomach began to rumble, she bregrudgingly sat up and dug through their packs for the lunch she had prepared. Sitting there next to him in just her swimsuit, her damp hair falling messily over her shoulders, she felt slightly self conscious, but hunger won over. Peeta sat crosslegged across from her, making no move to put on more clothes as she tossed him a sandwhich. She pulled her sandwhich out of the pack, along with two ripe apples and a bag of Peeta's cookies.

They both ate in amicable silence, faces stuffed with sandwhich or apple or cookie.

"These cookies are amazing, Peeta," Katniss proclaimed through a mouthful. She had another few cookies in her hand, ready to eat as soon as there was room enough in her mouth.

"Glad you like em," he eyed her, still working on his sandwich. "but I was kind of hoping you'd leave some for me," he said, watching the pile of cookies diminish. He was still working on his sandwhich, Katniss noticed, and was eyeing the bag of cookies that lay between them. Katniss placed her hand on the bag, as if threatening to move them from his reach. He moved closer to her and reached for the bag, but in a swift movement, Katniss held the bag far away and taunted him. He scowled at her playfully, then acted non-chalant. He finished his sandwhich and strolled behind the rock. Just when he was going to make his move for the cookies, Katniss stood up with the cookies in hand and made a straight line to the water, giggling the whole way. She waded out chest deep, keeping the package of cookies well above the water. She taunted him, swimming with an arm high above the Water to keep the cookies dry. He went in after her, swimming up to her only to have her swim off in a different direction.

Finally after Katniss was ready to stop her own childish acts, she looked for where Peeta had gone. He was in the lake with her, wasn't he? She hadn't heard his exit, but then again she had been making plenty of noise swimming around. She waded along the shoreline trying to see if he was up there. Normally, she would have expected to hear him trudging about, but there was an uneasy quiet at the lake.

Before Katniss could figure out the sense of unease she had, strong arms grabbed her from behind and pulled her down into the water. In her surprise she hadnt really had time to take a breath and so she came up coughing and choking on lake water, the cookies now soggy crumbs in the bag. Peeta was standing in the lake, a look of boyish triumph on his face.

"Are you happy now, huh?" Katniss asked as she climbed back to where her towel was and dried herself off. Peeta didn't respond but still had a boyish look of success plastered on his face.

Katniss dried off as best she could, then gathered the clothes that she had brought with her to change in to.

"You mind?" she asked Peeta who just stood and stared. It took him a minute, but then he registered it all and turned around while she changed out of her swim suit and put her dry shirt and shorts from earlier back on. She did the same for Peeta when he changed out of his trunks into different clothes he had packed.

Katniss was reluctant to leave the lake that afternoon, the area tranquil and near-magical. No, Peeta hadn't broken the spell.

So they trudged back through the woods together, going more slowly with full bellies and muscles tired from swimming. Katniss swung wide of her snares and usual hunting ground as she lead him back, not wanting to scare off any game.

"So what do you think?" she asked after walking silently for a long way.

"Hmmm..?" he replied, lost in thought.

"About my swimming lessons." she continued, looking at Peeta. She had had fun at the lake and hoped that he would want to go back there with her sometime, before the summer turned to autumn and the weather turned too cold.

"Oh," he said and made the effort to look deep in thought. "Well, I don't really have anything to judge them against..." he started, teasing her.

"Hey!" she chided him, shoving at his arm playfully. He laughed.

"No, no," he corrected himself, "this was fun, Katniss. I'm glad you taught me to swim." he finished softly. Katniss felt a spark between them. She realized they had stopped walking and were standing close.

"Yeah, yeah, don't feel like you're so special," she broke the spell with her crass words. "I mean who else am I going to get to swim with me?" She gave him a teasing look. Peeta rubbed the hair on the back of his neck.

"I don't know," he said slowly, "you never know, Haymitch might be pretty good." And they both let out peals of laughter at the image of a drunken, surly Haymitch trying to tread water.

When they returned to the Victor's Vilage, Peeta veered off in the direction of his house so that he could clean up before dinner. Katniss took a long shower, scrubbing the lake water from her skin and hair. She dug through the bathroom cabinet and found two different medicated creams and applied both generously to her skin, having been out in the sun and water much of the day. She towel-dried her hair as much as she could and combed out the tangles carefully. She pulled it into three strands and braided it down her back, tying the end with a small bit of loose ribbon. She didn't want to think that the ribbon might have been Prim's.

Peeta was making himself comfortable on the couch when she descended the stairs. On the coffee table was a bag full of cookies - the same kind that she had packed for their lunch and had ended up ruining in the lake before she let him have any. He saw her eyeing the bag and gave her a wide grin. She didn't smile back but instead plopped down on the couch right next to him. He had been resting one arm on the back of the couch and he wrapped it effortlessly around her shoulders when she sat. She leaned her head back, using his arm as a pillow, wondering when she had gotten so comfortable being this close to him again. She propped her feet up on the coffee table, carefully avoiding the cookies and the book of memories.

They sat there quietly for some time before the questioning game began. Sometimes he asked questions that required significant explanation, like when he had asked about their nights together on the train or about the pregnancy. Other times he would finish off a question with "real or not real" and Katniss would only have to reply with one of the two, Peeta content with the answer. When they had first started spending more time together in the spring, Peeta had resisted asking a lot of questions. But now that they were more comfortable together, there wasn't any area of the past he didn't question. Sometimes Katniss didn't know the answer, so Peeta would be forced to wait til Haymitch came around. And then sometimes the surly older man would refuse to answer or wave his hands and yell back. Peeta never got angry though, or frustrated, that Katniss could tell. He was blessed with far more patience than she was.

So they sat together on the couch, Katniss leaning her head on his arm, both of them staring off at nothing in particular playing the question game until Greasy Sae let herself in the back door. Haymitch wasn't far behind her and Katniss almost laughed at the honks of geese from outside and the curses that followed. Haymitch eyed the two as he stomped into the kitchen.

"What have you two lovebirds been up to?" he asked loudly. Katniss narrowed her eyes at him.

"Katniss taught me to swim today," Peeta replied good-naturedly, smiling up at their former mentor.

"Ha!" Haymitch laughed jarringly. "Bet you swam like a rock!"

"Actually, he did just fine," Katniss said, defending Peeta. Haymitch stared down at her, then to the coffee table. He scoffed at her as he grabbed up the bag of cookies and made himself comfortable in an arm chair.

Haymitch produced a flask from the inside of his coat pocket and began swilling it back until Greasy Sae called them to dinner. His stumbling was even more pronounced as they made their way to the kitchen table, Greasy Sae scowling at him. Peeta and Katniss sat down across from each other but Haymitch veered off suddenly. He began riffling through the kitchen cabinets, slamming them shut loudly when he apparently didn't find what he was looking for. All Peeta and Katniss could do was stare at the older man. Finally, at a bottom cabinet, Haymitch let out a triumphant whoop and stood up, bottle in hand. It was a bottle of wine that Katniss's mother had received as a gift over a year ago and had never opened.

"This," Haymitch said, rummaging through drawers for a corkscrew, "calls for a celebration."

"What does...?" Katniss asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Why, sweetheart, the celebration is for loverboy here learning how to swim!" he yelled loudly and swung the bottle around.

Haymitch slipped though, and the bottle crashed to the floor, breaking on impact, the red liquid splashing the counters and making a puddle on the floor. Katniss was half out of her chair in an instant. Glass was everywhere and Haymitch let out a string of curses when he realized there was a piece of glass embedded in his left hand. He jerked the glass out and bright red blood oozed from the wound. Katniss felt dizzy as she saw Greasy Sae grab a dish towel and press it to the older man's hand to staunch the flow.

The creaking of wood near her brought her back to her senses though and she looked across the table to see Peeta clutching the sides of his chair, his face contorted as if in pain. A flashback, she registered. She didn't know if she should leave the room or not. Greasy Sae seemed to be ignoring the situation, busily mopping up the wine. The sharp scent of the wine hit Katniss as she moved around the table and toward Peeta.

She stood behind him where he sat gripping the chair, and placed her arms gently on his shoulders. She whispered in his ear, telling him that everything was alright, Haymitch had just slipped. She repeated the words over and over, one of her hands brushing the hair from his eyes. After a long moment, Peeta's whole body relaxed and he let out a sigh. He turned and without a word burried his head in Katniss's stomach, his arms circling her waist. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and surveyed the scene. Greasy Sae had nearly cleaned up the wine and was fishing in the kitchen closet for something to help her sweep up the shards of glass. Haymitch had a dish towel wrapped tightly around one hand and was using the other to shovel food into his mouth from where he had taken a seat at the head of the table. Katniss glared at him and he just shrugged.

"Sorry I wasted a good bottle of wine," he said more to himself than to anyone else.

"Sorry," Peeta said softly and she could feel his lips move against the fabric of her shirt.

He finally looked up at her and their eyes met, his arms still encircling her waist, hers resting on his shoulders. And so in full view of Greasy Sae and Haymitch, Katniss bent down and kissed Peeta softly on the mouth. Greasy Sae cleared her throat loudly and Katniss heard Haymitch drop his fork to his plate and begin choking, but she didn't care. She pulled away quickly, though, meaning the gesture as one of comfort, or at least that's what she told herself.

Katniss returned to her seat and they started the meal - or finished, in the case of Haymitch, who excused himself from dinner early, taking the blood-stained dish towel with him. Katniss and Peeta helped Greasy Sae clean up the kitchen afterward, though the older lady had already disposed of the glass shards.

Peeta looked worn from their day of swimming and his recent attack. Katniss could see it etched in his features. He hadn't yet finished drawing the mockingjay pin to add to Madge's page in the book, but Katniss knew that could wait. He even seemed relieved when she told him they didn't have to work on the book that night, that he should get some rest. Maybe the memories were too much after his flashback. She never asked him what they were about, and he never told her. He just looked so tired afterward.

Katniss walked him to the back door, willing herself not to say "stay" and then have to face the consequences. He cut a lonely figure as he made his way back to his house on that warm summer night.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Thanks for all the feedback. I really do appreciate what you all think. This chapter isn't as long as the last few have been, but I hope you still enjoy it! Please review!

* * *

As if penance for the episode with the bottle of wine, Haymitch showed up one evening in late summer and announced that he had memories to add to their book. Katniss and Peeta looked at him, shocked at first that he wanted to contribute, then relieved when they realized he wasn't kidding.

"There are twenty-three years of folks in here," the older man said, pointing to the side of his head, "that need to be in that thing." He nodded toward the open book as he took a seat in a rocking chair near the couch, titling it back and forth.

Katniss could only wonder how the other tributes from District 12 had reacted to having Haymitch as their mentor. Were they disappointed when he stumbled in drunk? Or were they too dazed and heartbroken from the Reaping to even care? She remembered with startling clarity Peeta's determination to learn useful techniques and tips from the older man, not content to just sit around and enjoy the train ride. That's when Haymitch had seen something in them, something that told him they might have a chance, and he started truly coaching them. How many years in the beginning had he tried to coach the tributes, only to have them be killed time after time? When had he given in to alcohol and given up on the hope of training a potential victor?

Maybe Haymitch's true penance was to those forty-six young men and women who had been reaped from District 12 only to meet their untimely deaths.

He remembered them all, all their names, starting from the 51st games. He rememebered enough about some that Katniss could fill up an entire page. Other entries were a lone sentence.

Peeta stayed up late those nights, rewatching the videos from those games just long enough to see the Reaping from District 12. Just long enough to see those tributes and to recreate their likenesses for the book. Katniss would often stumble to bed, leaving Peeta on the couch. She would dream that she was back in the games with those other frightened tributes from District 12 begging her to help them. And in her nightmares she would try to save them, only to have them killed off, one by one.

After a particularly horrid nightmare one night, she crept down the stairs, hoping to find Peeta. Her living room was dark, though, the box of videos he had been watching put away.

They spent the rest of the summer enjoying the warm weather with treks to the lake for swimming and picnics, Haymitch refusing to join them except at night to add his memories to their book. Katniss thought her nightmares had no business bothering her during such weather, but she couldn't keep them at bay, try as she might. She spent time alone in the forest when Peeta was working at the bakery on the days when it wasn't too hot. Other days all she wanted to do was stay inside, ceiling fans on, and not move for the heat. She would lie about and think of nothing in particular, but more as a way to pass the time and no longer as a way to block out her crippling grief. In the forest she would hunt and trap, gather plants and herbs, climb trees and hills until she had gone farther into the wilderness than she ever had. She felt at home in the woods, but it was different than before. Different because now she only truly felt alive when Peeta was near.

Peeta brought home news from town one evening that crews had come in, having been ordered by the Capitol to bulldoze the mines. Katniss felt an ache at the thought, though the mines hadn't been worked in some time. She thought of the explosion that killed her father, and others, along with the countless hours the men of the Seam had spent deep within the earth. It had all been futile. District Twelve was the lowest of the Districts, the least populated. Peeta would have never had to work the mines, blessed to have been born in town with a trade to learn. Katniss wondered what kind of work there would be, if there were no mines. The area was steadily filling up with people moving in, some residents who had escaped the bombing, some from other districts. The few shops in town couldn't employ all the able bodies. Peeta told her there was talk of a factory being built and so they spent the evening speculating what the products would be. Katniss shuddered and hoped the factory had nothing to do with weapons.

Curiosity took hold of Katniss and she made her way in to town the next morning, passing up the square and its shops to head toward the mines. Indeed there were crews of workers in hard hats along with yellow and black machines. Katniss wasn't the only one who watched, some of the townsfolk having gathered, as the workers pushed ashes and mounds of dirt about, covering the entrance to the mines. Katniss didnt watch for long, though, her curiosity sated. She made her way back through town, stopping off at the bakery before heading to the Victor's Village.

Marc was behind the counter selling a loaf of bread to an older woman and Peeta was back near the ovens, his face flushed red from the heat. He grinned when he caught sight of her. She pretended she was a real customer, eyeing the beautifully frosted cakes and cupcakes, nearly drooling over the assortment of cookies and pastries. A young couple was having their breakfast of croissants at one of the tables near the back of the bakery and they whispered to each other when they caught sight of her. She didn't recognize them as original District 12 inhabitants. Peeta saw her looking at them and motioned for her to get close. She had to lean her entire torso over the glass display case to hear him.

"Want a cookie?" He began casually in a louder tone. When she leaned closer, he spoke more softly.

"That's Rolf and Hally," he said, "they come in every morning. They were from 8, both of their families killed in the uprising." Katniss eyed the cookie he had passed her over the counter instead of the individuals he was referring to.

"I bet you know the name of every person in town," she whispered back.

"Well..." He smiled, "not everybody..."

The couple pushed out their chairs and got up to leave and so Katniss leaned over quickly and gave Peeta a peck on the cheek so as to mask their gossip. Rolf and Hally smiled at Peeta and waved as they left. Katniss took a bite of her cookie.

"You know," she said between bites, "you should sell drinks. Coffee, tea, stuff to go with the pastries when people stay here to eat them."

Peeta looked thoughtful for a minute as he pulled a fresh loaf of bread from the oven and set it on a cooling rack.

"That's a good idea, Katniss," Peeta grinned. "What do you think, Marc?" He asked.

Marc looked at them and shrugged.

"Whatever _you're_ selling, I'm sure it'll sell." He said, nodding at Peeta.

Katniss took a self-satisfied bite of her cookie, smiling. She told Peeta and Marc about the bulldozing. Marc told her that his older sister's husband's cousin told him that the factory was going to manufacture medical supplies. However, his wife Anabel, a girl who had finished school a few years ahead of her and Peeta, argued that there was no factory, that instead the land was going to be used for farming such crops as soybeans, wheat, and potatoes.

Katniss waved off Marc's idle gossip and headed back through town, loaded down with a bag of frosted sugar cookies and half a dozen cheese buns, her favorite. People were hurrying to and fro on the hot summer morning and Katniss was suddenly reminded of when she had become the pariah of the district after the uprising in 8, a new set of stricter Peacekeepers in charge. She could recall how mothers would pull their children from her path. How harsh whispers followed her steps. How even her friends and their families had been affected, Hazelle suddenly out of work. Those times had been tough, rations being withheld cruelly. But the people that humid summer day weren't purposefully avoiding her or sending hateful stares her way. Most were minding their own business, some familiar faces inclining their heads toward her as they passed.

As potentially useless as she knew it would be, she spent the day fishing at the lake deep within the woods. She knew that the best time of day to fish was early morning and late evening, but one was already wasted and the other would be spent over a meal with friends. So she sat in a shaded area near the lake, a long wooden fishing pole her mother had sent her from District 4 wedged between two rocks, motionless. The earth had been too warm to dig for worms, so her bait was Greasy Sae's sausage from that morning. She laid back, chewing a piece of it herself, listening to the sounds around her. The cadence of insects buzzing and frogs croaking filled the hazy air. This is a day she wished she could spend with Prim, out of school, just passing the time. She suddenly remembered a summer evening from long ago, before her father had died and they had had many cares, where they ran about in the twilight catching fireflies. Her mother and father had sat on the back step of their old house, her father's arm around her mother, watching them play. Prim had nearly squealed when Katniss had caught one of the bugs and tried to hand it to her.

She dozed off by the lake, dreaming that the fireflies she and Prim were catching grew, turning into monstrous, blazing creatures with fangs, attacking them. When she awoke with a start, she saw that her fishing pole was bent and the line moving. She stood and grabbed the rod, reeling in a decent sized white perch. She was covered in sweat in the muggy afternoon heat, so she stripped to her undershirt and splashed some water on her face. She spent the rest of the afternoon catching enough fish to feel somewhat accomplished.

Until it made her think of Finnick.

Katniss was hit with a wave of memories. Nets. Hooks. A trident. His bronze hair and iridescent eyes. His death. Annie waiting for him back in District 13. Peeta's skillful drawing of him in their book of memories, capturing his beauty and strength.

"I thought of him while fishing today," Katniss told Peeta, some hours later. Dinner had long been cleaned up and Haymitch had come and gone in a wave of chaos. They were seated on the couch, Katniss holding the book open to Finnick's page. Some of the words were smudged where she had cried, weeks ago, when they had first penned his entry. Salt water. Tears. It was fitting.

"I wish I remembered him better," Peeta said after a solemn moment of silence. "I wish I remembered them all better," he said, touching the pages of the book delicately. Katniss laid her hand over his, the words on the page becoming a black blur.

She willed herself not to break down again. Not to have her emotions pour out like she had, weeks ago, when she had kissed him. The ache in her chest felt hollow, though. Peeta turned his hand over so their palms were touching and laced his fingers in hers.

"Do you remember," she began, "do you remember how he saved your life?" Katniss asked softly. She knew Peeta had re-watched the games and the Quarter Quell countless times, but did he really remember? They hadn't played the question game about him dying and Finnick bringing him back to life.

"Yeah…" Peeta answered softly, staring at the drawing of Finnick on the page. "The forcefield, right?" Katniss nodded her head.

"To think," she said, her tone getting lighter, "Finnick Odair kissed Peeta Mellark and not Katniss Everdeen."

Peeta looked confused for half of a second, then protested.

"Hey!" He almost shouted, but she could tell he was holding back laughter. "He didn't _kiss_ me, he did that to save my life," Peeta argued, referring to the mouth to mouth Finnick had used, along with the chest compressions.

Katniss raised one dark eyebrow at him.

"Well, if you want to keep telling yourself that…" She said, her words trailing off into laughter. Peeta couldn't help it. He laughed with her.

She almost cried, two days later, when she found the pearl that Peeta had given her. She had thought it lost, but it rolled across the floor when she dug through her closet, picking up a pair of pants she hadn't worn since District 13. It must have been in the pocket of those pants all along. She picked it up and gently cradled it in her palm, the feeling of it comforting and heartbreaking at the same time. What would she tell Peeta? Would he even remember it? She didn't stuff it into her pocket, but found a little-used jewelry box on her dresser and placed the pearl carefully into one of the little drawers. She went downstairs to dinner, having forgotten that she had originally gone upstairs to collect laundry.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Okay, FINALLY finished this chapter. Sorry it took a day or so longer than I had hoped, but here it is! This is much, much more of an introspective chapter where Katniss tries to deal with her feelings and with people and well, you'll see. Nothing much happens, so I apologize for that, but I just felt like having more characters to interact with Katniss and Peeta (though I usually dislike made-up characters, SC didn't leave us with a whole lot in District 12 to talk about). So read and review, please! And I hope you enjoy!

* * *

The pearl stayed in its place, in the jewelry box where Katniss had put it, but it would not stay out of her mind. She was haunted by memories from District 13, tucking the pearl in her pocket, feeling its weight, what it meant between her and Peeta. Waiting for his return, it had given her something to cling to, some tiny quantum of hope as smooth and subtle as its beauty.

It was just an inanimate object, she tried to convince herself, and she bristled slightly at the attachment she felt. Yet it weighed on her heart as if attached by a thin cord that threatened to break. She knew what it had meant to her months ago, but did it represent the same things now? She couldn't tell Peeta. She couldn't tell Haymitch, who would laugh at her. She couldn't tell Greasy Sae, who would probably tell her Peeta deserved to know. She thought about telling Dr. Aurelius, but she was unsure what he would make of it. She thought about telling her mother, but Katniss was afraid of what she might say.

So Katniss kept her discovery to herself, letting it live deep down where the ache in her chest had gone as of late. Sometimes it would surface in her thoughts, though, and the ache would grow sharp. But Katniss had a lifetime of painful memories that she had carefully locked away, so she willed herself not to succumb to any others. It was as if she had built a dam across a raging river. A river that had left her scarred both physically and mentally. A river that sometimes swelled up violently, threatening to break the dam.

She was more sullen the few days after she found the pearl, and she knew that those around her could tell. Of course Peeta knew something was off, but he didn't press her for an explanation. He would just glance at her every-so-often, his expression tense with worry. Greasy Sae also gave Katniss looks, but they were far more pointed. When Katniss refused to talk, the older woman would just shake her head in exasperation. Haymitch was the most vocal of them all.

"What has gotten into _you_?" He demanded loudly after Katniss had spent most of one evening scowling quietly, then erupting angrily when Haymitch tried to make small talk with Greasy Sae.

"You'd think you're headed back into the arena," Haymitch continued when Katniss had grown silent. "What the hell have you got your braid in such a twist about?"

She had tried to calm herself down, to not make a scene. Haymitch had stared at her for a long moment, then receiving no answer, shook his head much like Greasy Sae had done and continued eating. No one had stayed late that night, not even Peeta.

At night she dreamt she was back in the Quarter Quell, but this time she ended up getting kidnapped by the Capitol. She was lying in the warm sand of the arena one moment, the next she was being hauled onto a hovercraft by an army of Peacekeepers. They gagged and blindfolded her with rough hands and she could feel the sharp stab of a syringe injecting its contents into her thigh. She saw Prim before her, images of her being tortured and disfigured. She tried to scream but it was as if she were paralyzed in front of the cruel images. Then there was the image of Peeta. Peeta laughing at her ruthlessly. Peeta turning into a monster right in front of her eyes, his hands growing sharp claws that slashed at her. She woke then, screaming aloud even as she opened her eyes. It took her several minutes to calm down, and she enjoyed little sleep for the rest of that night.

Being in the woods helped. She spent the long, hot summer days hiking deep into the wilderness, expending as much energy as she could. She let her thoughts focus on the physical. The placement of her feet so that she walked near silent through the woods. The feel of the bow, the weight of the string as she pulled it taught, the measured release of the arrow as it flew to its target. She shot more game than Greasy Sae knew what to do with.

"Girl, if you keep on like this," Greasy Sae said one evening, eyeing Katniss's haul from the woods, "I'm going to have to open up a restaurant." The older woman almost laughed. Katniss _did_ laugh.

"No sense in letting good meat go to waste," Greasy Sae shook her head and grew more serious. Katniss felt guilty at the thought, having known hunger.

It was Peeta who came up with the solution.

"Why don't I invite Marc and Anabel over for dinner?" He asked later that evening, Greasy Sae still going on about the excess food.

"Why don't we invite the whole town?" Haymitch shouted and threw up his arms. He kept his mouth shut though after Katniss and Peeta glared at him.

"I think Katniss would have to shoot a few deer to feed the whole town," Peeta retorted.

"More than a few," Greasy Sae added. "Have you seen how many people have moved in?"

It was true. Every house in the Victor's Village was full, and not just with one person each like Katniss's, Peeta's, and Haymitch's houses. Most were families, some with small children that would squeal in terror when they saw Haymitch staggering about drunk in the lane. Others were older couples, their grown children choosing to stay with them. Katniss didn't blame them, the houses in the Victor's Village were nice. More houses were being built around the town center as well. Nice sturdy houses. Katniss felt a pang when she thought about all those houses – and lives – that had been destroyed in the bombing.

She had enjoyed the quiet of the Victor's Village. And for the most part it still was a quiet place away from town, but more and more the sounds of children laughing and crying infants and dogs barking could be heard. But Katniss knew she could find true quiet, true stillness, in the woods.

So it was decided that Marc and Anabel, along with Edda and Theo – the couple Peeta had hired from District 11 – would dine with them. Katniss felt a stab of guilt for making Greasy Sae cook for so many, but the older woman hadn't looked so cheerful since Katniss and Peeta had started taking their meals together. Katniss realized that Greasy Sae was accustomed to cooking for many, her counter at the Hob always a favorite stop for the locals. The older woman had a certain talent for cooking. She could make even dog or cat meat appetizing, Katniss mused. Of course she had called it chicken or beef.

When Peeta came to dinner all smiles after a long day at the bakery, Katniss knew that the others had accepted the invitation to dinner. She spent the days leading up to it cleaning her house and gathering plenty of wild greens and tubers and mushrooms.

On the day of the dinner, she hesitated when she held the book of memories. She could slide it in the bookshelf with the few other books that were housed there. Or she could store it on the shelf in the hall closet. She was afraid that if it were left on the bookshelf, out in the open, someone might question what it was and then there would have to be an explanation. An explanation Katniss wasn't ready to give people she hardly knew. But putting it up in the closet felt too much like she was hiding it. So she carried the book upstairs and the box of supplies they had been using on it – pens, pencils, paints and paintbrushes, tape, clips – and set it down on the unused side of her bed.

Greasy Sae came earlier than usual that afternoon, her granddaughter trailing her steps holding one of the older woman's bags, filled to the brim. At first, Katniss offered to help, and the older woman put her to work compiling a list of ingredients from one of the bags or from her own cabinets. Once all the necessary jars and tins and bottles of sauces and spices and fillers were acquired, Greasy Sae shooed Katniss out of her way and got to work. Katniss took up her perch on a kitchen stool and watched the older woman work. Greasy Sae's granddaughter had found an empty basket and was wearing it like a hat, marching through the living room.

The aromas from the kitchen were intoxicating and Katniss found it hard to pull herself away long enough to get ready. No, it wasn't the sumptuous food from the Capitol, but it smelled like home. Katniss could smell the fresh greens as Greasy Sae sautéed them in a pan, the earthy scent of potatoes roasting in the oven, and the savory aroma of the meat cooking slowly on the stove. Her stomach rumbled as she retreated to her room to change.

Katniss hardly ever fussed over what to wear. As long as it was clean, and it fit, it was good enough. But that evening she stood in her room, eyeing her closet with uncertainty. She had worn a dress to the grand opening of the bakery, but that had been a public event. Would wearing a dress tonight be too formal? She took stock of her selection and realized at once that none of the dresses in her closet were the least bit showy. Sure she wore pants in the woods, for the ease of getting around, but why couldn't she wear a dress in the company of friends and acquaintances?

And that's when the torrent started. One moment she had been standing at her closet door, the next she was sitting on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down her face. Her mother's blue dress from the Reaping. The red dress with flames from her interview for the games. Those six wedding dresses, beautiful even in their garish extravagance. And the silk dress, pearls sown all over, that turned her into a mockingjay…

Pearls. Pearl. The pearl. Tears poured down her cheeks as she willed herself not to dissolve into sobs. She stared at her dresser, the jewelry box sitting undisturbed atop it. She stood and crossed the room, picking up the jewelry box as if to throw it, but then set it down. Its drawers were askew and Katniss saw golden metal curved into an all-too-familiar shape. Her mockingjay pin.

She laid down on her bed, curled on her side.

She knew she should get up and shower. The guests would be over in just a little while, but her body wouldn't obey. She had stopped crying, but her mind was numb, trying to lock away all the emotions she felt. She watched as the light outside dwindled from bright daylight to the softer glow of evening. She didn't move. Eventually she heard the sounds of someone coming in the back door. Maybe it was Peeta. After a bit, she heard footsteps on the stairs and wondered if Greasy Sae had come to fetch her.

"Katniss?" A familiar voice asked softly. She looked up to see Peeta standing in the doorway to her room, hesitating. "Are you alright?"

She didn't answer, but turned her head away from him. He stood in the doorway for a while, and when she thought he would finally leave, she found him standing at the foot of her bed. He sat down gently on the edge of her bed, his hand resting on her ankle. She didn't flinch when he touched her. She didn't move her leg away. He gave her a concerned look, then surveyed the room. His eyes fell on the dresser, and the mockingjay pin. She tensed, trying to prepare herself in case he had a flashback.

However, he got up and walked to the dresser, picking the pin up in his hand. She saw how small it was cradled in his strong hands, and she felt foolish for getting so upset. She realized in that moment it was Peeta who kept her sane.

"Is this what upset you?" He asked softly, holding up the pin. She didn't answer, but a look of admission must have passed across her face because he looked slightly relieved. He set the pin down in its drawer and closed it. It was only a half truth, but she didn't offer any other explanation.

He walked back to her bed and stood looking down at her.

"Come on, got to get you ready," he said as he bent down and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He pulled her up so that she was sitting, facing him. She stayed silent but nodded to him. She stood up and he followed her to the bathroom door, but stopped so that she could enter and close it behind her.

The cold blast of water that hit her face woke her up. She took a few much-needed deep breaths and let the water run over her body. After she was sufficiently chilled, she turned the dial and let the warm water heat her skin. She couldn't bring her eyes to look at her scarred body, though. Instead, she watched as the water coiled down the drain.

Peeta was still in her room when she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a thick cotton bathrobe, her wet hair cascading over her shoulders. He looked relieved when she managed a half smile in his direction. Instead of heading immediately toward her closet, she sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him from where he stood across from her. Something in her gaze made him move toward her. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her, the side of his body pressed against her. He took her hand from where she had rested it in her lap and laced his fingers in hers.

They sat silently for some time, droplets of water from her wet hair making a pattern of dots on the floor. Peeta finally stood and stretching his legs, made his way to the door.

"You'd better get dressed," he said as he walked away. Before she knew what she was saying, Katniss spoke.

"Stay." She said, and she met his startled gaze when he stopped and turned to look at her. She had been quiet for so long that her words had surprised them both.

Peeta slowly turned back around and closed the door behind him, a look of something she couldn't quite place on his face. She did notice the redness creeping up his neck to his ears, however.

"I…I won't take long…" she said softly. "To get ready. I promise."

So Peeta sat on a stool at a long-neglected vanity while Katniss dug through her closet, deciding what to wear. Once she had chosen a simple green tunic and a pair of gray pants, she caught his gaze from where she was standing. Without any prompting, he turned around on the stool, his face staring at the wooden surface of the vanity as if it were the most interesting thing in the world as she slipped out of her robe. She had turned to face the closet, and when she finished dressing, she twisted around to tell him he could look. For a split second, she caught the reflection of his eyes in the mirror, staring at her. Then he averted his eyes again. How long had he been watching her in the mirror, she wondered. She felt her cheeks burn at the thought of him watching as she disrobed, and she felt something twist in her stomach.

She realized she wasn't angry at the thought of him seeing her bare, and her cheeks burned even hotter. But perhaps he had just looked up and caught sight of her then. Whatever the case, he didn't say a word about it as Katniss braided her hair and they headed downstairs together.

During the evening meal, Edda and Anabel chatted together, while Peeta, Marc, and Theo had their own conversation. The two women tried their best to include Katniss in the discussion, but she mostly remained quiet, more interested in rolling her peas around in the thick brown sauce from the meat than talking. She wasn't trying to be sullen or unfriendly, and she knew she should make more of an effort for Peeta's sake, but she didn't really feel like she could join a conversation about in home decorations or what fabric to buy or the price of corning ware going up. She tried, without success, to get Greasy Sae, along with her granddaughter, to join them at the table. The older woman just smiled and shook her head and shooed her granddaughter back into the living room where she had been playing. Katniss longed for the company of the older woman, or even Haymitch, in this world of married women. But Haymitch had declined the invitation to dinner, saying he'd let the two "lovebirds" have their dinner party without him.

Peeta, however, was back to his old self. He and Marc and Theo were talking and laughing about something, and Katniss wished silently that she could be a part of their conversation, where she could just sit and listen to Peeta, smile and laugh at his jokes, and not try to make small talk. She almost winced when she realized that the six of them sitting around the dinner table made it seem like her and Peeta were a couple. True, they spent quite a bit of time together. True, they had kissed – and more than once – since he had returned from the Capitol. True, she enjoyed spending time with him more than she enjoyed being in the woods these days. And true, he was one of the only things that anchored her back to the earth sometimes. But they weren't a "couple." They weren't courting, or married, like Edda and Theo or Marc and Anabel. Katniss almost blushed at the thought of being married to Peeta. Hadn't she told Gale once, adamantly, that she'd never get married?

It was quiet around the dinner table, and Katniss suddenly realized that Peeta had asked her a question while she had been lost in her thoughts. Her face turned a shade of pink when she had to ask him to repeat his question.

"Oh, I was just telling everyone that you went and saw the mines being bulldozed," Peeta said, a slight look of concern on his face. "I was asking if they posted any signs or anything about the construction."

"Oh," Katniss said, thinking. "Well, I didn't stay the whole time. So I don't know if they put up signs or not."

"Hmmm," Edda jumped in, "I'll have to walk down there and see for myself. You get to the mines from the west end of town?" She looked up at Katniss.

"Yeah, the west end," Katniss repeated. Of course, if Edda were from District 11 she wouldn't know where the mines were in a district far away from her own.

District 11. Thresh. Rue. It was all she could do to not get up and run from the dinner table. She could see the look on Rue's parents' faces. Thresh's elderly grandmother. The old man that had whistled out Rue's four-note melody, the salute, then the shooting. Katniss could hear gunfire. She stood suddenly, her chair crashing to the floor, a wild look in her eyes.

Peeta was up in an instant and to her side. She felt strong hands on her arms and her pounding heart calmed a bit. She _had_ heard gunfire, though. It had been too loud to not be real. Anabel had gasped, and Katniss didn't know if it had been from the noise or her sudden movement. Theo and Marc were both halfway out of their chairs, as if they might need to help Peeta.

"It's ok, it was just some kids lighting off firecrackers," Peeta said, still holding her. Katniss turned her head to the window and in the summer twilight she could make out two children running and squealing after each other.

Peeta righted her chair and Katniss sat back down and realized that, for once, a loud noise had not triggered a hijacking flashback in Peeta. She was relieved that it hadn't because of their guests, but she was also perplexed. How had those pops, sounding so much like gunfire, not affected him? Maybe it was because he had been too concerned with her. Or maybe he had been too focused on everything else – their dinner, the guests, the conversation.

Katniss apologized softly, and everyone mumbled about how it was okay, it was nothing, but she could tell the mood had shifted. Edda and Anabel no longer tried to include her in their conversation, but did occasionally shoot her worried looks. Marc and Theo seemed to listen as Peeta started talking again, but the men kept looking between him and Katniss. She was relieved when Peeta asked her to serve the pie and got up from the table a little too quickly.

Greasy Sae and her granddaughter had left earlier, and Katniss silently wished they were still there. So Katniss busied herself procuring desert plates and a set of clean forks and knives for the pie. The desert was warming in the oven, and Katniss nearly flinched at the rush of heat against her face when she opened the oven door and pulled out the pan, her hands covered in thick quilted mitts. She sliced large pieces of the desert and passed them out, taking the last one for herself. She ate it standing at the kitchen counter, though, and began to transfer empty dishes to the sink when she was finished.

The sound of five chairs scraping along the floor as everyone at the table stood up signaled that her guests were leaving, and relief flooded her body. She hoped silently that Peeta wouldn't think the entire dinner a failure. They were his employees, after all, and she didn't want to run them off because she was unhinged. She stopped washing the dishes for long enough to plaster the cheeriest smile she could muster on her face and bid them all a good evening. They left smiling and waving, so she must have not ruined it completely, she thought, turning her attention back to the dishes.

Peeta gathered the plates from the table and came to stand beside her at the sink. The nearness of him was reassuring, and she let out a sigh of relief. Peeta let out a half-chuckle.

"That bad, huh?" He asked, smiling at her. She let the soapy dish she was working on fall back into the sink.

"It's just…hard for me," she managed, ducking her head back down. "I'm sorry if I scared them off," she said softly. Peeta laughed and Katniss looked back up at him.

"No, no, it's okay, Katniss," he assured her, smile on his face. She could have kissed him right then, wrapping her soapy arms around his neck. But she didn't.

They finished the dishes and put them away, Peeta chatting happily about the new ideas that he and Marc and Theo had for the bakery and for the town. Katniss let herself relax, standing next to him, and counted it a blessing that perhaps she hadn't ruined the evening after all.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Finally finished another chapter! This one is pretty much "fluff," though I loathe that term. I mean, some fluff is good, but sometimes fluff can border into ridiculousness and then characters aren't behaving like themselves or the plot is unrealistic, etc. Anyway, I consider there to be a fair amount of fluff in this chapter, but hopefully the good kind. And I wanted to re-establish a certain aspect of Katniss and Peeta's relationship (you'll see), so it was kind of needed. Hope you enjoy! And like always, feedback is MUCH appreciated. Thanks to all my reviewers out there!

* * *

It was two days later when the sound of firecrackers filled the quiet of the Victor's Village again. It was just after the evening meal. Greasy Sae and Haymitch had already left through the kitchen door and Katniss and Peeta were standing over the sink, washing dishes. Katniss had her hands elbows-deep in the warm, soapy water when the pops rang out. Peeta had been helping her dry the dishes, standing to her left. Katniss flinched at the loud noise and sucked in a deep breath. The next thing she heard was the sound of a glass hitting the floor and shattering into a thousand pieces.

Peeta had dropped the glass he had been diligently drying, his whole body becoming tense. He was clutching the kitchen cabinet as if he were trying to rip it off, the muscles in his arms quivering. His eyes were wide and dark. A flashback. Katniss knew they had been lucky that he had not had a flashback, days before, when the firecrackers had startled her so badly during their dinner party. This day was not so lucky, though.

She moved from the kitchen sink and stood behind him. She leaned her forehead against the middle of his back and wrapped her outstretched arms around his, resting her hands on top of his tense ones. Warm suds slid their way from her arms to his. She was careful, trying to avoid the shards of glass with her bare feet. But as she stepped toward him, she knew that she had caught some of the sharp pieces, feeling the burning sting of pain on the bottoms of her feet. She hoped silently that she wouldn't bleed and cause even more distress.

Katniss just stood there for a long time, telling Peeta that it was ok over and over again until the syllables of her words all blended together. Then she began to hum the melody of one of her father's favorite songs. It came to her as if he had been right around the corner, humming it to her. The words came, and she sang them softly, as if to herself. She hadn't even reached the second verse when Peeta began to relax, his arms dropping to his sides. He let out a long sigh.

"Don't stop." He whispered in a pained breath. She could barely make out his words. "Don't stop…your song."

So she stood behind him, glass crunching beneath her, and finished the song.

Peeta let out another sigh and turned around, gathering Katniss in his arms. She rested her head against his chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat, strong and steady. She could feel the damp suds she had gotten on his arms slowly soak her shirt, but she didn't care. They stood there for a long while.

Finally, Peeta released her. She stepped back from him and winced, the glass wedging deeper into her feet.

"Be careful," she said, wincing again.

"Oh no, what happened?" He asked her, a look of concern on his face. "What did I do?" He reached down and gently held her shoulders, then leaned his face close to hers.

"It's nothing," she said quietly, hanging her head so she wouldn't have to meet his gaze.

"Katniss…" Peeta said in a sterner tone. He stepped closer to her and looked down when he heard the glass crunching beneath his shoes.

"You dropped a glass, it's ok," Katniss said quickly, not wanting to move and embed the glass even deeper into her feet. But she could see that she had left bloody footprints along the tile floor.

Peeta froze when he saw the blood and Katniss braced herself for another flashback. But when he shook his head to himself, she could tell that he was all right.

"Katniss, your feet…" he trailed off, his voice layered with worry.

"They're ok, it's just a little blood," she said, but she felt a little sick to her stomach at the feel of the slick, warm blood beneath her feet.

"No, it's not ok. You're bleeding." Peeta said matter-of-factly. With one quick movement he bent and picked her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing.

He gingerly stepped around the area of broken glass, not wanting to spread it all over the house. At the edge of the kitchen, he slipped out of his shoes and continued toward the couch. Katniss held on to his shoulders dizzily. She didn't know if it was from the sight of her own blood or from being scooped up so quickly, but she definitely felt lightheaded. Peeta set her gently down onto the couch and instructed her to stay still. He hurried off upstairs, and she could hear him rummage around on the second storey. A few minutes later he returned with a pair of tweezers, a few towels, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and some bandages. He sat on the couch and proceeded to pick up her legs so that her feet were resting on the towel draped in his lap.

"I'm sorry." He said, holding one ankle with his left hand. "And I'm sorry if this hurts."

Katniss was stoic as Peeta meticulously pulled each shard of glass from both of her feet with the tweezers. He placed each piece carefully down on the towel in his lap. When he was finally done, he gently wiped the bottoms of her feet down with a clean towel. Katniss, still lying down, grabbed each foot and surveyed the damage. The thick skin of her soles had several lacerations, but none were critically deep. Most of the cuts were small and superficial and had only bled because she had stood for so long.

"This is going to sting," Peeta said, holding up a washcloth soaked in the rubbing alcohol to her feet. Having a healer as a mother, she was prepared for the sharp burn of the antiseptic. She still winced slightly when the cloth made contact with her injured skin.

She let him delicately bandage her feet, wrapping gauze around them until it looked as if she were wearing thick socks. She pulled her feet from his lap then, and placed them on the floor. She stood, assessing the damage. The bandages cushioned her steps as she walked around, Peeta advising her to be careful. Her feet still stung from the alcohol, but other than that, she was all right.

"I think I'll live," she teased. Peeta didn't smile, but made his way toward the kitchen.

Katniss stood at the edge of the kitchen, watching silently as Peeta cleaned up the blood and glass from the floor.

"I'm sorry," he said when he looked up and saw her watching him, his words thick with guilt. "This is all my fault." He was on his hands and knees, scrubbing the tile.

He stopped scrubbing when he felt her hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, his blond hair falling into his face. He had a look of worn sorrow on his features and he suddenly looked older than his years. Katniss wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault for having a flashback and breaking a glass. She wanted to tell him she was ok, she didn't blame him. She wanted to tell him that _she_ was the one who was sorry. That it was _her_ fault the Capitol had tortured him. It was _her_ fault that he was forever scarred. But she didn't say anything.

A look must have passed across her face because Peeta sat up, leaving the washcloth on the floor. Katniss bent on one knee, took his head in both hands, and rested her forehead on his. She felt his hands on her waist and she was suddenly warm all over. They stayed like that for a long moment, their breath warm in the air between them.

Finally Katniss broke away, her hands moving from the sides of his face to his shoulders. Peeta moved to stand, his hands still on her waist. But with the wet floor and the unsteadiness of his prosthetic leg, Peeta fell backwards, taking Katniss with him. They both yelped as Peeta landed on his back, Katniss sprawled on top of him. He cracked the back of his head on the tile, and moaned in pain, rubbing it gingerly with one hand.

"Are you ok?" Katniss asked, still lying on top of him.

"Yeah…" He replied, still rubbing the back of his head. "That hurt though," he said, but gave her a reassuring grin.

"Guess we're even," she retorted, smiling back at him. She was suddenly aware of every inch of her body that was touching his. Their legs were entangled and her hips and torso were pressed against his. She thought she could feel his heart racing, and she didn't know if it was from the fall or hitting his head or from her proximity. Before she did anything rash, she rolled to the side and stood, holding out her arm to help him off the floor.

Peeta stood more slowly, holding the back of his head. Katniss made him turn around so she could inspect it. There was no blood, nor break in the skin, but she assured him he'd have a knot back there for a few days. She made him bend and she checked his eyes, too, as she remembered her mother doing for folks who had hit their heads or fallen or passed out. She gazed deep into his eyes and was lost in how impossibly blue they were. Then she realized how close their faces were, his blond eyelashes stretching out between them. She could have counted every freckle that dusted his cheeks.

"Katniss." He said, and she nearly jumped back from him in surprise. "Sorry," he added when he realized he had startled her, "you just had this, uh, dreamy look on your face." Katniss felt her cheeks burn.

"Oh uh, I think it may have been the fall," she said quickly. "I may have hit my head too." The look he was giving her told her that he didn't buy her story, though.

"Mhmmm," he voiced with disbelief. "You did kind of look like you had a concussion though," he teased. He laughed when she scowled at him.

"You know, you did hit your head pretty hard," she told him, straight-faced.

"Well, if I _do_ have a concussion, isn't it better if I don't go to sleep?" He asked, a wide grin on his face. Her cheeks turned an even darker shade of red.

"I think that's more if you're stuck out in the snow somewhere," Katniss replied curtly, "so you don't freeze to death, you know."

"Well, I think it applies to head trauma too…" Peeta quipped back, one side of his mouth curling up mischievously.

She shook her head and walked past him back into the living room. He didn't follow immediately, but rinsed the wet and bloody washcloths in the sink, hanging them on the edge to dry. He settled in beside her a little while later, sighing at he sat on the couch. Despite their joking and laughing, Katniss could tell the flashback had taken a toll on him. He had dark circles under his eyes and she wondered if he'd been sleeping. She knew the terrible nightmares that kept her awake more nights than not, so she could imagine what awful scenarios might plague his dreams.

Katniss was sitting on one end of the couch, so she wordlessly took hold of Peeta's shoulders, patted her thigh, and tugged at him until he laid down, head in her lap. He let out another sigh as she ran her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and a smile played on his lips. She let herself relax there, in his company. She felt like the deepest sorrow, the most aching grief, became a mere annoyance when he was around. She could wake up to a new day because he was going to be in it. He had saved her more than once, and now, even after being hijacked, he was saving her again. She wondered if he realized how much she owed her life to him, and a slow blush crept up her neck. Of course, before, there had been a whole mess of feelings involved. But now, had those feelings returned? Or had Peeta developed a new set of feelings?

As if he could read her mind, Peeta opened his eyes at that moment and caught hers in his gaze.

"What're you thinking?" He asked innocently enough. Katniss stayed her hands in his hair and prayed he couldn't see her blush.

"Nothing," she lied, hoping she sounded sincere. That was easier than making something up to tell him. And perhaps her thoughts _were_ nothing. Perhaps he didn't have any sort of feelings toward her other than friendship. He had only kissed – really kissed her – the one time, in his smoky house. The other times, she had initiated the kiss.

"What're _you_ thinking?" She countered. He had closed his eyes again and was smiling.

"That I'm going to fall asleep laying here like this," he said, eyes still shut. _So stay_, she wanted to say, but she didn't.

"Well, I'd cover you with a blanket," she teased, "If you fell asleep on the couch."

"No," he said, pulling himself back up to sitting. "I'd better get going."

He stood and stretched and Katniss watched his arms reach toward the ceiling as if he were trying to catch something. Something right beyond his grasp.

She spent the next few days cooped up in her house, bandages on her feet, while her cuts healed. Greasy Sae only looked at her when she shrugged off the wounds, telling the older woman about the broken glass. Luckily Haymitch didn't show for dinner the following couple of days. She could just imagine the jokes he would make at her expense. Peeta apologized repeatedly until Katniss gave him a menacing stare. She was glad when she cut the bandages off after a handful of days and the wounds were well scabbed-over. She pulled on a pair of socks and her hunting boots and stomped around the house, seeing how much her cuts had truly healed. When that exercise did not hurt, she was pleased and left the house in a hurry for the woods.

Katniss woke a week later in a cold sweat, a deep sense of panic gripping her. It had been so real, everything thing that had happened. Peeta was helping her clean up after dinner that evening and wasn't feeling well. He had brushed it off, going home early. That night she saw him, lying in bed, coughing up bright red blood much like President Snow had done. His whole body was shaking and blood began to freely flow from his lips. Some unforeseen side effect from the hijacking. He was dying. That's when Katniss had woken up, confused as to what was real or not.

She threw off her covers and made her way down the stairs, not bothering to slip on any shoes as she made her way down the back step and across the yard toward Peeta's. The wounds on her feet had scabbed over and healed and the cool grass felt good on her bare soles. His house was dark, but she was relieved to find the back door unlocked. She was in his room before she knew what had possessed her to enter his house in the middle of the night. He was sleeping fitfully, tension on his face, his arms and legs at odd angles across the bed. She stood at the foot of his bed, her cotton nightgown clinging to her sweat-soaked skin, afraid to wake him lest she trigger a flashback.

As if he sensed her presence, Peeta flinched and woke suddenly, breathing heavy.

"Katniss..?" He said, staring at her as if he didn't quite believe she was real.

She moved to the side of his bed quietly, leaning over his prone figure. He blinked a few times and rolled toward her. Then she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands hovering above him.

"I…" She began softly, trying to not let her voice tremble. "I dreamt that you were…you were," she almost couldn't say it. "You were dying."

She reached out and laid her hand on his bare arm, feeling the muscle beneath. It _had _been a dream. The Peeta that was before her was strong and healthy, not the pale, sickly Peeta of her nightmare. There was no blood, no wracking coughs.

"What?" Peeta asked, his eyes growing wider as he grew more alert.

"You were sick. You were coughing up blood like Snow and dying." The words poured out of her as tears began to form in her eyes. "It was a side effect, from the hijacking." She managed.

He scooted closer to her in bed, her hand still on his arm. She realized she was gripping him tightly, but he didn't protest.

"It was just a dream, Katniss," he assured her softly, his hand finding one of hers. He sat up in bed, his other hand brushing a strand of long, dark hair behind her ear. "Please don't cry," he whispered when he was close enough in the dim light to see her tears.

"It was so real though," she protested, moving even closer to him. "I had to make sure you were ok." She ducked her head and didn't meet his gaze. His hand was still resting on the curve of her jaw, and so he tilted her face up and held it there until she looked into his eyes.

"Katniss," he said calmly, "I'm ok." She felt foolish for running over to his house in the middle of the night because of a dream, and so she hung her head again.

"Come here," he said finally, and wrapped his arms around her slight frame, pulling her closer to him.

She tucked her legs up onto the bed and laid down with him, his arms still wrapped tightly around her. She rested her head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat steady and reassuring. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and the regular movement soon lulled her to sleep. Just as she was nodding off, she felt his soft lips press a kiss onto the top of her head. He whispered something faintly, but she couldn't quite make it out through the haze of sleep.

Katniss slept soundly, curled up in his arms, and had her first dreamless sleep in months.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Another chapter, finally! At first, I thought this fanfic would be around 12 chapters, but here I am at chapter 14 and still going strong. There is much in store for Katniss and Peeta, but I felt I needed another chapter to solidify their (new) nightly routine. Not so fluffy as the previous chapter, but hope you enjoy! Reviews are much appreciated and thanks to those who have already reviewed!

* * *

When she woke the next morning, bright sunlight streaming in through the window, she was only disoriented for a second before she remembered the night before. The bed was empty, though, and there was no noise from within the house. She sat up, looking around, and found a note on the nightstand.

"Off to the bakery, food is in the kitchen. Make yourself at home. –Peeta," it read.

She felt a bit of embarrassment, but the feeling was overshadowed by relief. Her nightmare had been so real. Sleeping next to him she found comfort, just as she had done on the train during the Victory Tour and the night before the Quarter Quell. She felt less guilty about her actions now, though, than when she had used him many months before, seeking comfort when she had been unsure of her true feelings. But what were her feelings now?

She stretched out her legs and climbed out of bed, though, instead of mulling over her emotions. The last time she had been in his bedroom was months ago when they had aired out his house. She stood near the window and remembered the feel of his lips on hers, the taste of smoke. His house smelled fresh now and she could actually see what was inside. She almost gasped when she saw the paintings covering his walls. Practically every inch of exposed wall was covered with a canvas. Some were probably six feet by six feet, she mused, while others were small squares covered in paint. Some were abstract – bright colors smeared across the surface with hints of shape formed with darker colors. There were ones that showed the Victor's Village off at a distance, each house scaled perfectly, the sunny lane in the middle warm and inviting. There was a painting of the town as it had been before the bombing, the justice building looming in the square. She felt the ache in her chest grow sharp when she saw a family portrait he had done, his father beaming, the hard lines of his mother's face unforgiving, his brothers handsome and very similar to him in features. There was one that appeared more recent, of the lake. Katniss let her gaze linger on it, imagining she was standing right on the shore, his portrayal of the way the light hit the water flawless. The painting that was across from his bed caught her eye next, and she almost gasped aloud.

There, on a large canvas, was her face, painted two-dozen different ways. In the corner, she was smiling and her cheeks were flushed, her braid coming undone. There was one of her scowling, lines of tensions forming around her eyes. In another, she looked to be concentrating, her hand and the string of her bow pulled taut into her cheek. One face was just an outline in simple black strokes. In another she looked peaceful, her eyes barely closed, as if she were just about to wake. In the bottom corner were just her eyes, long dark lashes and irises the perfect shade of gray. There was one of her crying, her face contorted in pain.

She stepped back from the painting slowly, her gaze still transfixed by it. Had he painted it before the hijacking or since he had been back in the district? Did he have it hanging right beside his bed to help him recover or for some other reason?

Katniss finally tore her eyes away from the painting, her thoughts racing. She took a few deep breaths as she tried to clear her mind and headed down his stairs. She ducked her head and tried to focus on her steps, avoiding the paintings that lined the hallway and stairwell. She saw blurs of orange and blue and green, blacks and pinks and golds, but she would not allow herself to look directly at the canvases. She reached the bottom step and took another deep breath, trying to calm down. His living room was almost an exact mirror of hers, couch facing the fireplace, a large bookshelf on the wall near the stairs, arm chairs near the large windows that faced south. She could see that Peeta had framed quite a few of the family photos that he had found boxed away. There was his parents' wedding photo on the mantle, along with a family portrait and the one of him as a baby. The ache in her chest grew sharp when she saw that he had also framed some of the photos from the Victory Tour. There they both were, holding hands, bright and young. Another frame held a candid picture of them laughing over something, Haymitch in an animated pose in the background. The last picture stood in a delicate, silver frame on the highest shelf in the bookcase. There she saw herself in an airy cotton dress, her arms around Peeta's neck, her face inches from his, her mouth poised for a kiss. She almost didn't recognize herself for the beautiful clothes, the way her hair was fixed, the adoring glow on her face. But looking at that picture, there was no doubt that the girl in it was truly in love with the boy she was about to kiss.

But who was that girl in the picture? She knew she was not the same girl she had been on the Victory Tour, desperate to put on a good show for President Snow. But that picture held no sense of desperation, only devotion. She was scarred and battle weary now, though. Her life had twisted in such unexpected ways that her simple existence back in her home district felt like a cruel joke. But things weren't as simple as they seemed. There were small miracles, like the morning she discovered the evening primrose bushes in full bloom. The twelve tiny ducklings she watched paddling around in the lake. Each skillful sketch that Peeta had rendered in their book of memories. Peeta himself – each wide grin, each joke, each familiar laugh – was a miracle. There were failures as well, though. Each drawing Peeta refused to let Katniss see and then crumpled roughly in his hands. The broken bottle of wine on that summer's eve. Katniss shooting a large buck then spending hours tracking the wounded animal, only to find a pack of wild dogs had found him first. She had slipped quietly back into the clearing when she saw the feral dogs enjoying their kill, muzzles dripping with fresh blood. She had turned and run until her lungs felt as if they would burst, then scaled a tall tree and sobbed openly from her perch in the crook of a branch. She had kept silent about the incident, shrugging her shoulders when Peeta had asked about her day. It was all she could do to clear her thoughts of the wild glint in the dogs' eyes, the blood on their faces, and not think about how closely they resembled the mutts from the games.

Katniss found a dishcloth spread along a kitchen counter, two dozen fresh blueberry muffins resting atop it. She worked on one while standing over the sink, the tartness of the berries perfectly contrasting with the sweetness of the muffin. She ate another, and bundled up half a dozen more in a clean dishtowel. Barefoot, she made her way back into her unlocked house.

Her house felt empty without Greasy Sae or Haymitch or Peeta, and so she changed out of her nightgown and into clothes suitable for a hot day in the woods. She left the house as quickly as she'd come in, bow and quiver strapped tightly on her back, her hunting boots a marked contrast from walking barefoot in the grass.

Midsummer had come and passed, and she knew soon enough a certain coolness would find its way back into the air. Soon enough the leaves would start to change and there would be fresh vegetables and herbs from the garden Greasy Sae had boasted about planting in early spring. Katniss smiled at the thought, surprised that she even remembered what the older woman had said. Katniss had been deeply entombed in her grief then, refusing to make small talk with Greasy Sae. Refusing to acknowledge the boy who lived next to her.

She suddenly wondered who had moved into Peeta's old house. Not the one above the old bakery – that whole building had been destroyed in the bombing. But the house he had formerly kept in the Victor's Village. After the games, he had lived three houses over from hers. She remembered worrying after him during a particularly brutal winter storm and him reassuring her that he would make it home safely. Yet he had moved back, months ago, and she had not been surprised when the once-dark house next to hers filled with light. She remembered seeing Thom and some other men from the district helping Peeta move his things over to the new house early one morning. She had watched them until Peeta had glanced toward the window. That is when she closed the blinds tightly and sank back into a rocking chair.

Had Dr. Aurelius been the one to suggest Peeta live next to her? Had it been out of convenience for Greasy Sae, who cooked for them? Had Peeta wanted to be closer to her for some reason? Perhaps for his recovery? She tried to block out the whirling questions as she made her way silently through the forest that day, bow at the ready. Her snares were empty, so she headed up the ridge beyond the lake to pick the ripe blueberries that grew there. Peeta had already made good use of the batch she had picked a few days earlier in the freshly baked muffins from that morning.

She found the thick blueberry bushes and scared off the birds that were feasting there. A few mockingjays squawked angrily at her, but she made no noise, not wanting them spreading the sound of her voice around the forest. She filled a plastic container full of the ripe berries, willing herself not to think of how closely they resembled the darker Nightlock. She could almost taste the deadly berries on her tongue from that day in the arena, Peeta's back pressed against hers. There was a part of her that wished she had tightened her jaw and swallowed. She would have caused less problems that way, she had mused countless times.

But she hadn't swallowed the deadly fruit. She and Peeta had both survived, however damaged they were. They had survived and their stunt had sparked a rebellion.

She laid in the shade during the hottest part of the day, eating a handful of blueberries along with some cheese buns she had packed. She watched a few finches and a robin pick over the the berry bushes and she stayed still so as not to scare them off.

She smiled to herself as she thought of asking Peeta to come pick berries with her on his next day off.

"I walked all the way up here this morning, to an empty house," Greasy Sae announced later that evening. Katniss felt a pang of guilt and her cheeks turned red. There were many mornings that Katniss left early for the woods, but something in Greasy Sae's features and tone of voice told Katniss the older woman knew better than that. She was glad Peeta had not yet joined them for dinner.

Greasy Sae did appreciate Katniss's haul of berries, though. As did Peeta. He came in through the kitchen door a while later and grinned when he saw the six or seven muffins sitting on her counter.

"Glad you found them," he said and Katniss could not have turned any more red.

They sat together on the couch after dinner, quietly enjoying each other's company. When it grew late and Peeta turned toward her as if to excuse himself, she spoke before she could stop herself.

"Don't even think about leaving," she said. He almost laughed at her threat, and rubbed the back of his head with one hand. He exhaled loudly and stood anyway.

"Well let me at least get a toothbrush." He grinned. "I doubt you want to smell Greasy Sae's squirrel with onions all night long."

Katniss was glad he left to go next door before he could see the slow blush that crept up her neck. Peeta returned a few minutes later, a few articles of clothing and a toothbrush in his hand. Katniss tried to stifle a yawn, but he saw through it and steered her toward the stairs.

Katniss changed into her nightgown while Peeta was in the bathroom. Standing in her brightly lit bedroom, she suddenly felt self-conscious in the thin garment. Goosebumps popped up on her bare arms despite the warm summer air. Peeta exited the bathroom in a loose shirt and cotton shorts and she breezed past him to finish her nightly routine. She hoped he would already be in bed dozing by the time she returned, the thought of his gaze on her making her skin prickle with electricity.

Katniss flipped off the light switch quickly when she re-entered her bedroom. Peeta was already lying on the left side of the bed, arms behind his head. Katniss slipped under the covers and moved close to him, her bare feet finding his. Well, one foot was warm and alive. His left – the one closest to her – felt of some synthetic material stretched over metal. His prosthetic leg. The ache in her chest was a clawing, hollow thing.

She moved so that her head could rest on his chest, his left arm curling around her. She entwined her legs with his, her left finding his right leg. She wanted to ask him if it were easier to sleep in his prosthesis or if he simply did so because she was there. She had wanted to ask him the same question during the many nights they spent together on the Victory Tour and after, but she could never form the words and felt that it would have come out all wrong. She felt the clawing pang of guilt again, along with something else, something different.

Laying there, the warmth of his arm overwhelmingly present through the thin fabric of her gown, she felt a fluttering in her belly. She knew that if she moved to kiss him, there in the dark, their bodies close, she would feel that hunger that had welled up during the Quarter Quell. She was at once somewhat fearful and enthralled as to where that hunger might lead. But she buried her head deeper into his shirt, breathing of his scent, and willed herself to fall asleep.

She woke to an empty bed again, her left arm stretched out across the bed to where he had been. She had been blessed with another night free of terrors, but she felt his absence like the ache in her chest.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Another chapter, and more fluff I'm afraid! Hopefully it's not too much. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter and thanks to all those who have taken the time to leave feedback! Feedback is always appreciated, so let me know what you think about the chapter, the characters, the plot (what plot? lol).

* * *

Lying in bed together, weeks later, they were laughing and talking about everything and nothing in particular. Katniss was staring at the wooden boards that formed the ceiling as Peeta spoke. Her head was on his shoulder and his left arm was wrapped around her so that his warm hand lay atop hers.

"That night," he said, "The night you tiptoed your way into my house, I remember I woke up and saw you standing right at the foot of my bed. I…I thought you were a ghost, at first." He paused. "Or an angel."

She had thought to retort when he had likened her to a ghost, to tease him about how terrifying she must have appeared. But his angel comment had caught her off guard. She had had wings once, remembering the beautiful dark feathers on Cinna's last creation. But they had been the wings of a mockingjay – too dark for an angel. She knew he had spoken with a tinge of humor in his voice, but she also wondered what she would have done if their situation had been reversed. If she had woken to find him looming above her. Would she have screamed? Would she have assumed he was having a flashback and had finally come to kill her? She shook the thoughts from her head and buried her face into the soft fabric of his shirt.

"Did I say something…?" He asked quietly when she kept her face hidden. She shook her head "no." It was only a half lie.

Peeta fell asleep not long after that, his even breathing becoming more shallow. Katniss stayed awake for some time, enjoying the feel of him lying so close. His strong arms, his solid chest, the way the scents of the bakery clung to him – the earthy smell of grain, the heady aroma of things baked in fire, the sweet fragrance of cinnamon.

Over the past few weeks, Peeta's things had found their way into her house until there was a good section of her closet where his clothes hung. His toothbrush sat next to hers on the bathroom counter and he even had his own drawer in her dresser. She had given him a lower drawer, picturing with fear him slamming shut one at the top and knocking off her jewelry box to find the pearl hidden within. He had even moved some canvases and painting supplies into her seldom-used study. She was glad that he was putting the room to good use, for she refused to set foot into it. She was glad her mother had insisted she get an extra-long phone cord those many months ago so that the house phone rested on an end table next to the couch. She had to warn Peeta to be careful not to trip on the cord, however, when he had decided to make the study into his studio.

She didn't peek into the room to see his work, but would wait until he brought the paintings out. Some he showed her, delighted. Others he whisked off to his house without a word. She didn't ask after those, remembering all the paintings she had seen weeks before. And she remembered the paintings he had shown her on the train during the Victory Tour, the ones of the games brought back to life. Perhaps he remembered her hatred of those ghastly scenes and refused to let her see ones that might upset her. Or perhaps those paintings were for his eyes only. She was curious, but she didn't ask.

They had gone berry picking the week before, trudging up the hill beyond the lake side by side. The birds were long gone by the time they arrived, their loud footsteps – or at least Peeta's loud footsteps – scaring them off from quite some distance. So they spent that morning picking blueberries and blackberries and filling the tall white buckets they had brought with them. When they took a break, Katniss jokingly threw a blueberry at Peeta when he wasn't looking, catching him on the side of his head. He made a noise of mock disapproval, then lobbed a fat blackberry in her direction. When she caught it deftly in her mouth, they made a game of it, lying on the grass across from each other, seeing who could catch the most berries.

In the heat of the afternoon, they changed into their swimsuits and went for a dip in the lake. They stowed their buckets filled with berries, covered with dishcloths, in the shade. The lake was warmer than it had been in early summer, but the water still felt delicious on Katniss's skin. She ran and jumped off a tall rocky leg, curling her legs to her chest and sending water six feet into the air upon impact. Peeta could not stop laughing after she resurfaced.

"That's a trick my dad showed me," she said, bobbing up and down in the water near Peeta who was struggling to stay afloat from his laughter.

He resisted a bit when she grabbed hold of his hand and tugged him up toward the rocky ledge to jump, but he finally followed her. She threw her body off the outcropping, her hair streaming out behind her, her legs bent in a dancer's pose, her arms outstretched as if she were reaching for something, something that was right beyond her grasp. She hit the water and resurfaced quickly, smiling and turning to watch him jump. It was tricky with his prosthetic leg, but he finally pushed himself off the ledge and was suspended in the air for half a second before he plummeted toward the water. His splash sent waves of water over Katniss as she waited for his head to pop up. For a few moments she panicked. What if he had been hurt and was not able to swim up for air? What if he had been knocked unconscious and was drowning beneath the water? She turned herself round and round in the water, looking for him in case she had missed his reappearance. She was just about to hold her breath and go under to look for him when something strong grabbed hold of her legs and pulled her under. She resurfaced gasping for air a moment later, a mischievous blond head not a foot away. He was laughing at her and for a minute she wanted to yell at him that it was not funny, that she had thought him injured or drowned. But he gave her a look that was half guilt, half apology and she couldn't be upset with him. She smiled and moved closer to him, and when they were inches apart she splashed hard, sending waves of water directly into his laughing mouth. She laughed then as he coughed and sputtered, then shrieked as he chased her through the water, attempting to splash or dunk her.

They lay side by side on large towels later that afternoon, exhausted. The sun warmed their bodies and Katniss thought she might have dozed off a few times in the haze of the afternoon. She made a noise, and Peeta turned his head and met her gaze.

"This day is perfect." Her words came out so soft she wasn't sure at first if she had spoken them aloud or if they were merely a thought.

Something passed across Peeta's face, though, and he rolled to his side. He moved toward her and suddenly his face was above hers, blocking out the sun. She felt his warm lips on hers and then all too quickly he was back on his towel and she was left staring up at the sun. Perhaps she _had_ dozed off and it was just a dream.

"_Now_ it's perfect," Peeta said, a wide grin on his face as he folded his arms behind his head. She turned to look at him, but he was staring off into the distance. Her face was on fire and she knew it wasn't from the sun.

He had made no move to kiss her since then, though, and she had not brought it up.

Many nights they climbed in to bed early, and Katniss would answer softly as she and Peeta played the question game. Some of the hardest things to explain revolved around the bombing of District Twelve and the end of the Quarter Quell. She had not been present for the bombing, so her information was secondhand from what Gale had told her, or Greasy Sae. Peeta knew when he had crossed the line with a question, though, and didn't press her for information. Some nights they wept openly, together, and held on to each other as if they were children lost in a great wilderness, trying to survive.

Many nights, she would wake, Peeta thrashing next to her in a nightmare. She would whisper his name and shake his shoulders until he woke. Sometimes he woke with a wild look in his eyes, his pupils unnaturally dilated, and she would slowly scoot back to her side of the bed, holding his hand or resting her fingers on his arm until he came back to reality. Other times, she would be the one to wake screaming or flailing about wildly, Peeta's deep voice and strong arms coming in to anchor her back to the earth.

Most mornings Peeta left before dawn for the bakery, and Katniss would make her way downstairs much later, often to the sounds of Greasy Sae in the kitchen. The dark circles under Katniss's eyes had faded, and the older woman would smile to herself as she prepared breakfast. On Peeta's days off, they made breakfast together, or Greasy Sae cooked for two, cheerfully humming to herself as she worked over the stove.

There was no end to Haymitch's teasing. Peeta bore it in good measure, with smiles and quips back at their former mentor. Katniss took it scowling, but more often than not a slow blush would creep up her neck. A few evenings, Katniss and Haymitch had ended up in a verbal sparring match, angry words flying, until Katniss had banned the older man from ever entering her house again. However, Peeta had laced his fingers in hers and squeeze her hand reassuringly when Haymitch had shown up for dinner days later, a tad more somber.

The bakery was booming, Peeta having followed Katniss's advice and installed machines that made hot tea and coffee, along with bubbly cold drinks in a dozen different flavors. Katniss would sip a cup of hot tea, leaning against the counter, whenever she stopped in at the bakery. Marc would chat with her while Peeta was busy and a few times Anabel had stopped by, kissing Marc affectionately before dropping off a bag filled with his lunch. The couple had pressed Peeta and Katniss to join them for dinner sometime, and so one late summer evening Katniss found herself walking toward town to meet Peeta instead of taking up her usual perch on a kitchen stool.

She met Peeta in front of the bakery, her eyes surveying the town square as he was locking up. There was fresh dirt and stakes around a large square area, thin ropes with yellow tags marking it off. She realized with a lurch in her stomach that that was where the Justice Building had once stood. Peeta came and stood beside her, trying unsuccessfully to dust flour from his clothes.

"They're going to build a new one," he said, as if reading her mind. "A new Justice Building." Katniss shivered even though the evening air was warm.

Anabel talked on and on that evening about the new construction in town – the new Justice Building, the new Mayor's mansion, a warehouse. Her breath caught in her throat for half a second too long when Katniss thought of Madge and Mayor Undersee and Maysilee Donner whose pin she now owned. She could almost hear the sound of the piano as Madge played her favorite pieces. Then she felt a reassuring squeeze on her knee. Peeta gave her a brief smile, then turned his attention back to Anabel, who was chattering on. His hand remained on her knee, though, and she tried not to think about the pink tinge she knew was creeping up her neck.

"They are going to start work on the buildings as soon as it gets cool enough," Anabel was telling Peeta. "Or so I've heard," Anabel continued.

"Construction should be done by next spring," Marc spoke up. "It will be nice to get things a little more back to normal." Marc was looking across the table at Katniss, who had remained tight-lipped. She didn't know if things would ever be back to "normal."

The mines had been bulldozed to make room for other projects. Now there would be a new Justice Building right where the old one had stood? Of course, some government presence was needed for issuing land permits and marriage licenses and holding elections. But Katniss felt her whole body stiffen at the thought of what the old government at the Capitol had done to her. Peeta's hand was still present on her knee, but she could feel him tense as well. She let her fork clatter to her plate and made an attempt at conversation.

"Who…" She started, trying to pick her words carefully. She slid her hand over Peeta's under the table. "Who are they going to appoint mayor?"

"They are going to hold elections in the fall," Marc answered quickly, his words rushing out like an audible sigh of relief.

"I know of a few people that are going to run," Anabel chimed in. "Mostly folks who lived here before." _Before the bombing_, Katniss thought. "But there might be one or two new folks running."

"Thom is everybody's favorite," Marc added. Katniss was surprised to hear that he was running for mayor. He was so young, but she knew he had worked hard in the mines and had helped with much of the new construction ever since he had moved back. He was a likeable fellow, and Katniss could imagine him being a diligent and trustworthy mayor.

For the rest of the evening the mood was lighter, Peeta and Marc joking together while Anabel brewed a pot of coffee. Katniss declined a cup, but gladly ate a piece of pecan pie. Anabel seemed genuinely pleased with their visit and cut a dainty figure next to Marc as they waved goodbye from their lighted doorway. Katniss and Peeta strolled back to the Victor's Village in the warm night air and somewhere along the way their hands met and she laced her fingers with his.

Their hands stayed clasped all the way up to her bedroom, and she finally slipped her fingers from his when they parted to get ready for bed. Peeta made his way into the bathroom as she changed into her nightgown. A few moments later he walked back into the room and something passed across his face. He grabbed her hand again briefly and she met his gaze.

"Is everything ok?" His eyes were impossibly blue and she almost missed the question. "Are we ok?"

It would have been easy to draw him toward her, to find the curve of his jaw with her other hand and tug his face down for a kiss. But she pulled away from him, his hand dropping to his side, and managed a forced smile. He seemed satisfied, or at least appeared so, and began to change out of his work clothes. She retreated to the bathroom, where she stayed for a long while. The light to her bedroom was off when she finally returned, and Peeta was already dozing in the middle of the bed.

Katniss slipped in beside him quietly, and curled into his warmth. She began to doze fitfully, and could tell Peeta was doing the same, murmuring pained words in his sleep. She woke, late in the night, and he appeared to have calmed down, his features relaxed. She moved closer to him and couldn't resist placing a chaste kiss on his mouth. She watched his face as she pulled away, but his eyelashes didn't even flutter. As she laid her head back down on his chest, he whispered something barely audible.

"I love you."

Her eyes flew wide open but she remained still, staring at the sheets, too scared to turn her head and catch him fully awake and aware of the words he had just spoken.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** This is a VERY introspective chapter. Just throwing that out there. And I'm uploading it, having finished it like seriously three seconds ago, so I apologize if there are any typos or whatnot. Anyway, hope you enjoy! And feedback is ALWAYS welcome. Thanks so much to those who continue to leave comments and feedback!

* * *

She mulled over what to say – if anything – for days. Peeta had been gone, of course, that morning, and Katniss had wondered if she had merely imagined or dreamed his words. He made no mention of the comment, and so Katniss was sure he had simply said it in his sleep. Perhaps he had even been dreaming and had said "I love you" to someone else. She tried to convince herself of all those things, yet something tugged at her thoughts. What if he _had_ meant it? What would she have said to him if he had spoken those words while awake?

Katniss also tried to convince herself that she wouldn't have run for the forest at such a statement, but she could imagine herself taking off, leaving him standing open-mouthed wherever he decided to confess his love. And while she had been asking herself for months now what his true feelings for her were, the incident in the middle of the night had not sated her curiosity. She told herself for the thousandth time in a few days that he could have been in the midst of a dream and said that to anyone. But something still tugged in the back of her mind, and she tried to swat it away as if it were a fly.

So she tucked those words back in the deepest corner of her mind, and let them live there with the pearl. There wasn't quite room to hold both secret treasures, but she managed. She was cool and collected around Peeta and Haymitch and Greasy Sae, not acting out as she had done while wrestling with the feelings behind the pearl. They still gave her long looks, though, and she merely shrugged.

As the weeks passed and the weather grew cooler, she breathed in the autumn air and exhaled in a sigh of relief. Relief that she could just go on lying next to Peeta at night, holding his hand or kissing him occasionally, and not open up that muddled cage of feelings. But the more she told herself she had her emotions under control, the more each look they shared, each touch that was afforded her, each quiet moment alone with him caused something to grow deep within her. She wouldn't name it, told herself that she _couldn't_ name the thing that blossomed within her. But it slowly began to fill up more space in her heart until all the painful memories she was holding there were eased down, as if someone were helping her carry the burden.

In the cool weather, she saw Peeta struggle with his left leg, rubbing at the joints and muscles, readjusting the prosthesis after standing all day on it. She knew from Greasy Sae and other folks in the district who were afflicted with arthritis that the cold weather and changes in air pressure made their joints ache. So Katniss made a phone call to her mother and a few days later there was a package waiting on her front step. In it she found all sorts of creams and salves geared toward those with joint aches and pains. She happily distributed them among those she knew needed them as she had once gone about town distributing game. They thanked her in different ways, some with curt nods and clipped words, others with presents of food or an offer of warm tea. In the evenings Katniss would watch as Peeta rubbed the medicated cream on his left leg, then laid back in bed smiling, a look of relief on his face.

She wondered if an apothecary shop would ever open back up in town. That night, Peeta brought home news from town, but it wasn't about a new shop.

"A Harvest Festival?" Katniss asked him over dinner. Sure, the townsfolk had celebrated the harvest with special meals and often the Victory Tour, but now that it was obsolete, someone had thought up a different celebration.

"Yeah," Peeta confirmed cheerfully. Greasy Sae was standing behind the counter, busy with something, but Katniss could tell the older woman was listening intently. "There are going to be booths where people can sell their wares, games for the kids, stuff like that. I'll be selling cookies and pastries and bread, " he continued. "And drinks. I think it's going to be great."

Katniss liked the idea but was unsure about being around that many people at one time. Sure, she had gone to the Hob countless times, but she had been about business there, trading her kills and edible plants for other valued items. Of course there had been the obligatory stop at Greasy Sae's counter for a bite to eat and an earful of gossip, but many of the people she interacted with were gone – buried in the mass grave or off in another district. The confines of District 13, all the rules and schedules and people in tight quarters had left her feeling trapped and wary, like a caged animal.

"You should sell your food, Sae," Peeta said directly to the older woman, bringing Katniss out of her thoughts.

"Well," Greasy Sae replied slowly in a measured tone, "I'll think about it." But the look on her face betrayed her and Katniss could tell that the older woman was even more excited about the prospect than Peeta was.

"Yeah, it'll be just like old times," _at the Hob_ Katniss wanted to finish, but she didn't.

As the months had passed, Greasy Sae had started only coming over two to three days per week to cook. She acted relieved about having less work to do, telling them that it would give her more time to work in her garden. But Katniss could tell the older woman was itching for something else to fill her time. Since she wasn't cooking for her and Peeta every day, Katniss spent plenty of time taking game directly to the older woman's modest house after long days in the woods. As much as Katniss craved the quiet, it was rather lonely some nights, Peeta working late at the bakery, Katniss sitting on a stool in her empty kitchen. But she was recovering, she realized, and with Peeta there, she didn't require constant supervision anymore. And even thought Greasy Sae only trudged up the road to the Victor's Village a few nights a week, she still cooked enough to do them for days afterward.

And of course there was always Haymitch. Even on the nights Greasy Sae wasn't present, Haymitch would still find his way, often drunkenly, in her kitchen door. Peeta welcomed their former mentor, making jokes with him and generally tolerating him. Some nights Katniss laughed along with them, happy for the company. Other nights she met their jests with a scowl, her jaw set tight. On those nights, Haymitch would leave with a twinkle of mischief in his eye and a wink meant for her. She would cross her arms across her chest and stare daggers into him, not bothering to figure out what his wink actually meant. Peeta would chuckle to himself as he cleaned up the dishes, growing quiet when he saw the look on her face.

Greasy Sae came into her kitchen one night, weeks later, announcing happily that she was going to cook for the Harvest Festival. It took Katniss only a moment to realize that the older woman meant for her to provide the meat. Katniss did not have to be ordered to spend the cooler autumn days hunting and checking her snares for game. She would crawl out of bed not soon after Peeta's warmth had left her for the shower, then the bakery, and make her way into the forest. The trees lit by the rising orange sun. Orange. Something would trigger a memory. Orange light of a sunrise. Not quite the same as the orange of a sunset, but a sunrise held more promise for her. Orange. Peeta's favorite color. A smile crossed her lips, then she was beneath the heavy cover of trees and gazing up she could imagine a small, lithe figure jumping tree to tree, watching her. Rue. Rue covered in flowers. And Katniss nearly started running through the forest, trying to block out images of Rue with a spear through her tiny body.

Then the spell of memories would be broken with a flash of a squirrel up a tree or a rabbit racing into the underbrush, and she would be a hunter once more, not a victim of the Capitol. Her arrows were true, and she brought home plenty of meat for Greasy Sae, enough for a feast, let alone a Harvest Festival. And perhaps the older woman could see the pain in Katniss's eyes, after all the months they had spent in each other's company, and maybe she could see that it had lessened.

Orange. Peeta's favorite color. The leaves were turning various shades of orange and red and gold, the conifers still holding onto their heavy green. Katniss could have picked up handfuls of the fallen leaves, throwing them in the air with a squeal as she and Prim had done in autumns long since passed. But instead she took more care to place her feet around the crisp, dead leaves and make her way silently through the forest to hunt. It was too cold to swim, and the berries had been picked over until the bushes were raw. But there were animals aplenty, most out feeding and storing up for the harsh winter months to come.

Katniss had not been surprised to see more hunters out the woods. It went from running into Thom one summer day, him sparing her a quiet smile and her sending a curt nod his way before they split off into different directions, to spotting other figures at a distance, knives or bows in their hands. Since that time, she went farther afield to hunt for her game. A part of her was also extra cautious because of the possibility of a hunting accident. She knew, though, that people did not come out into the woods on a whim, and most were skilled hunters trekking through the wilderness with stealth. They avoided her, and perhaps they respected that she was one of the first. She smiled as she imagined Greasy Sae giving some townsfolk a stern talking-to before they just decided to traipse into the woods.

It made her heart hurt to think of Gale, who had once been a part of the woods she knew and loved. And she had loved a part of him. But that part had changed and everything had turned out wrong.

There had been a news story that Peeta and Haymitch were watching one night from opposite ends of the couch. Katniss had been busy in the kitchen, mostly trying to ignore the television and its garish noise. But she overheard snippets from the news clip, reporting from District Two, and her stomach lurched when she heard the interviewer mention his name. Gale Hawthorne. She had clutched the counter much like Peeta did during one of his flashbacks and willed herself to not turn around and gaze through the kitchen doorway. The clip of him speaking, his voice as deep and even as she remembered it, was over in a few seconds, the voice of the reporter filling the uncomfortable silence of the house. Haymitch had left soon after that, letting out a low whistle when he saw the look on Katniss's face.

"Do you miss him?" Peeta whispered in the dark, hours later. Her whole body tensed against him, but she had not been sleeping soundly anyway. She thought Peeta had finally dozed off, but apparently he _had_ noticed her uneasiness.

She could have said "no," but she would have been lying. She stayed quiet for a long while.

"I miss how things were, in the past." _Before the games. Before I knew you_. She wanted to add, but she didn't.

She couldn't bring herself to tell him how she had missed that Gale even before the rebellion, how he had changed and become someone else right before her eyes. But they had all changed. She was eighteen now, but she felt as if she had lived a lifetime. She couldn't bring herself to tell him that there were people she missed more – Prim, her bright blonde hair and blue eyes filled with kindness beyond her years; Finnick, who hid his inner turmoil behind the gloss of his features; Cinna, who could draw beauty out of the simplest of things, who was her friend and confidante; her father, whose features she had inherited, working long hours at the mine yet still taking the time to show Katniss how to hunt and sing.

She breathed in the cool night air and it tasted like ash. There had been a fire in the hearth earlier, but she had stayed far from it. Her heart was a funeral pyre, she knew. It was a mass grave for those she had loved. As if Peeta could read her thoughts, he pulled her impossibly close and pressed his lips to her forehead in a comforting gesture. His heart was a mass grave as well, his parents and brothers, friends from school and beyond buried there. And in the darkness, she realized that he was the only one who had gone through exactly what she had. He was the only one who knew her exact sense of pain and loss. And that was precisely why she was curled next to him in bed that night.

And so she prayed silently, her head pressed against the fabric of his shirt, that she could spend every night for the rest of her life in his arms.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Alright, here's chapter 17, in which Katniss confronts her feelings and a Harvest Festival takes place! And don't worry, I have plenty more to write. This story gets more fun to write the more I write! Anyway, thanks to all those who have left feedback and sent messages. If I haven't messaged you back my thanks, just know that I appreciate each and every one of you. This story just found its way out into the world and I am lucky to have such great readers.

* * *

It was like waking from a long sleep. Consciousness dawned slowly. It was as if her eyelids were fluttering open, the real world coming into focus bit by bit. Only she wasn't waking from slumber, she was awakening to her feelings for Peeta. Her realization had not happened in one instant. It had happened gradually, over time, and had been muddled at first. It _was_ like waking, her body and mind resisting at first, the tug of unconsciousness still quite strong. However, she had shaken off the denial like rubbing the sleep from her eyes. And now her life without him would have been a nightmare, and so she was glad to wake up.

She carried the pearl in her heart now, not buried deep in the back of her mind. She held it in a special place just as she had kept it in her pocket in District Thirteen, holding on to it as a beacon of hope for his return. Now it symbolized the return of her feelings for him. Or at least her acknowledgement of them.

She found herself singing more and more, a song never far from her lips. Peeta would smile and praise her, but he never asked what brought it on. Greasy Sae knew. As much time as the older woman had spent around Katniss, she knew what had blossomed there even before Katniss did. The older woman would just give her long looks and smile to herself, almost as if she had played matchmaker. Katniss found herself smiling more, as well, which caught Haymitch off guard. At first, he thought he was the butt of some joke, both Katniss and Peeta grinning. Then, when there was no prank, he became annoyed with them, stomping about cursing at them and muttering something about "young love."

Peeta. Peeta she hadn't told. She slowly began to show him, though. She tried to think of how his face lit up when he was particularly pleased with something, and she tried to mimic that. Anyone else could have told her she didn't need to try, that her face positively glowed when he was around. She had smiles that were only for him. And her hand would find his more and more. She remembered the first time she had just grabbed his hand, a little too quickly, and he looked as if she had something great to show him. Rather than tell him she just wanted to hold his hand and that was all, her smile faded and she let go. Now she didn't care, though, and their fingers would lace together as if their hands had been made to complete one another.

And part of her was afraid to tell him. Afraid to say anything lest she break some spell that had been cast over them. His whispered confession had been weeks, if not months, ago, and she still felt she could not rely on it. There _was_ something between them she knew, or else why had he kissed her those times? Why did he hold her every night and comfort her after nightmares? But she held her feelings in her heart, along with the pearl, and told herself that it was enough just to be around him. It was enough to love him, even if she never could say anything. Even if he didn't love her back.

The morning of the Harvest Festival dawned in golds and pinks and blues, and Peeta left for town early. Katniss had wanted to hold onto him and tell him to stay, but instead she had shut her eyes even tighter and willed herself back to sleep. Her favorite mornings were the days he took off from the bakery, both of them sleeping in, waking to find a smile on the other's face. Some days they would lay in bed for hours, one of his strong hands brushing the hair out of her face, their bodies close. But that morning she woke in an empty bed, the chilliness of the early morning keeping her from falling back asleep. She pulled on a sweater and pants, braiding her hair more slowly that morning, her fingers still stiff from the cold.

The sun was warm on her back, though, as she headed to town. The Victor's Village was bustling that morning, parents with their children strung in between, older couples hand in hand, all heading to the Harvest Festival. Katniss gave them a shy smile as she passed, then sped up her pace toward town.

The town square was filled with white canvas tents that morning, and underneath, tables covered in whatever coverings could be found. It was obvious that some of the booth owners had drug out their own kitchen tables, the sturdy wooden legs peaking out beneath a patterned tablecloth. Some had colorful banners hanging from their tents, proclaiming their name or wares, or both. She could spot Peeta's booth from across the square, a huge banner hanging in front with "Baked Goods" painted across in orange letters, little cakes and cookies painted around the border. He was busily setting out the pastries on the table – cookies bundled in little bags and tied up with ribbon, loaves of bread already sliced, beautifully decorated cupcakes in tiny boxes, the lids clear so the design of the frosting could be seen. Katniss had been goaded into helping him the past few nights, cutting ribbon and tying up the bags of cookies, or popping open the little boxes that had arrived in a big box from the Capitol, all flattened out.

Beside him, Marc was filling a large, gray metal cooler with ice. Instead of the fountain, boxes full of fizzy drinks in glass bottles had arrived last week. It had been almost impossible to walk through the bakery, boxes spilling out of the storeroom and onto the tables in the back. Katniss had wanted to laugh aloud at the sight, but she knew how seriously Peeta was taking the Harvest Festival and didn't want it to seem as if she were mocking him.

Peeta afforded her a warm smile on that cool morning, and she grinned slowly back, her cheeks turning pink when she noticed Marc watching them. Marc just smiled to himself and shook his head, pretending to be busy with the cooler again.

"Good morning, ma'am," Peeta's warm grin faded into a more neutral smile, and he pretended she was a customer.

"Morning," Katniss replied matter-of-factly, looking over his table. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, these blueberry muffins are excellent," he responded, pointing to a row of pastries, the price cards set beside them. "See, they're baked with something extra special." He said in a soft, conspiratorial tone.

"Oh?" She asked.

"Yeah, see, the blueberries were picked from this very region. And by someone very special to me." He winked at her mischievously, and her cheeks colored further. Something deep and aching was squeezing her heart.

She took a deep breath and handed him the correct amount of coins, grabbing a muffin from the table. She ate it, bit by bit, as she walked around the other booths. There were homemade jams and jellies and preserves. Pickled vegetables and meats in large jars. Scarves and sweaters and blankets knit from homespun yarn. Trinkets and jewelry made from buttons and wire and semi-precious stones. Little jewelry boxes and music boxes carved skillfully from dark wood. Dresses and clothes hand-sewn from fabric bought from the store in town. Greasy Sae stood proudly at the edge of the tents, a large table spread with bowls and plates and silverware, and several large slow cookers with delicious aromas emanating from them. There were short stools positioned around her table, and it made Katniss's heart hurt for a moment to think of all her time spent at Greasy Sae's stall in the Hob.

The older woman greeted her warmly and offered her some bacon, for a fee, that she was cooking up on a hot plate behind the slow cookers, cords running along the ground into a generator positioned in the middle of the tents. Katniss, finished with her muffin, gladly sat on one of the stools and exchanged a few coins for three slices of bacon. She nibbled on the meat, not really hungry. She caught Peeta's eye from across the booths and ducked her head quickly, her cheeks burning again. She heard Greasy Sae tut from behind the table.

"You really ought to tell that boy how you feel," the older woman said in a half-whisper, her other customers eating their breakfast and acting as if they hadn't heard what was said. Katniss almost choked on her bacon, but as the older woman's words sunk in, she was no longer surprised.

Katniss finished her bacon and wiped her hands on a napkin, nodding to Greasy Sae and the other familiar faces at the table as she got up. Greasy Sae had crossed her arms and given her a long look, wooden spoon grasped in one hand. Katniss spent the rest of the morning strolling around the remaining booths. There was face painting and arts and crafts and bobbing for apples and the square was full of the noises of children squealing in delight and parents' calls to be careful. There were candy apples and homemade candles and bath soaps. Folks were selling the fruits and vegetables from their gardens, as well as herbs. One young girl that Katniss thought she recognized either from school or from District Thirteen was selling her paintings. They were no match for Peeta's, but they were dainty, whimsical things, and Katniss smiled at her all the same.

She surveyed the progress on the Justice Building as well, the leveled off dirt now housing a concrete foundation. There were a few support beams up as well. Even more progress had been made on the Mayor's Mansion. It was larger than Mayor Undersee's house had ever been, long with two stories. She wondered whose idea the hulking structure had been. Elections were going to be held in a week, and there were a handful of candidates running for mayor, along with others running for positions on the town council and so on. Voting booths were already being set up in one corner of the town square, and Katniss suddenly realized she would be old enough to vote. She was eighteen, as was Peeta. Yet they had been sixteen when they were thrust into the games. Too young to vote, yet old enough to kill for sport. She shuddered at the thought and instead focused on the colorful signs that had been posted declaring each candidate that was running. She could have laughed at some of the pictures accompanying the signs, their cheery faces brightening up the once grim District.

Things _were _brighter now, the ash and smoke from the mines having dissipated since they had closed. A large portion of the land where the entrance to the mines had once stood was going to be planted with winter wheat soon. She wondered if Peeta had had anything to do with that or if some official from the new government had insisted. She tried to stay out of politics. She _had_ assassinated the purported new ruler, after all. Peeta held more sway with the townsfolk than she had originally thought, though. He was affable and a well-known face, and people listened to him. Though someone else had brought up the idea for the festival, Peeta had brought it to fruition, even if he would never admit it. He had made flyers, first encouraging people to sign up for booths or games. Then he had been the one to order the tents and make the flyers for the actual event. And the town square was full that day, even the construction workers taking time to explore the booths and buy their lunches at Greasy Sae's table. Haymitch had joked that there would be roasted goose for sale, but Katniss found the same number of geese nesting in the tall grass behind her former mentor's house that morning as the day before. Of course there was no liquor for sale, but Haymitch was there, as drunk as ever, pouring the clear liquid from a flask he hid in his waistcoat into his mug of coffee.

He found her on the edge of the town square, sitting on a step of one of the shops that was closed for the festival. He sat beside her and offered her a swig from his flask, but she put up a hand and quietly refused.

"I always told you you weren't good enough for him," Haymitch said, his gaze focused toward Peeta's booth.

"I know," Katniss responded, watching Peeta sell cupcakes to a young mother, her children pulling at her skirt for the frosted pastries. "You also cursed me to live happily ever after with him." She could remember Haymitch's words as if he had just spoken them.

Haymitch chuckled and took a sip from his mug, then a gulp from the flask.

"I guess I did," he said and pushed himself up off the step, waving his arms and yelling animatedly to some acquaintance of his.

Peeta found her sometime later, letting Marc take over their booth. He smiled, still wearing his apron, and sat down slowly beside her, rubbing his left leg.

"Well, I think the festival is a success," he said, smiling as he surveyed the crowd of people in the town square. Katniss let out a sound to show that she agreed and found his hand. "I have Edda and Theo busy making more cookies and cupcakes," he said, squeezing her hand. "I'm almost sold out."

And she glanced up at him then, the light of that autumn day shining on his face as if he were the sun and she a planet in orbit around him. Her heart was full and she knew that Haymitch's curse was not a bad thing at all.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** Alright, it seems like things are winding down. In this chapter it's Election Day! Oh and the seventh paragraph down is from Peeta's POV. Hope that's not too confusing. Thanks for all the great feedback over the last chapter. Hope you enjoy! Oh and I have been listening to Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 23 on repeat for the past three days now. It is a simply gorgeous piece of music, so listen to it! It's easy to find on iTunes and you'll feel more cultured afterward! As always, your feedback is much appreciated. I keep every review deep within my heart where Katniss keeps that pearl, hehe.

* * *

She was on fire. She could taste ash in her mouth as the flames licked her skin. Her clothes, her hair, her entire body was engulfed in flames, the pain hot and searing, then becoming sharp and almost cold. She watched her skin turn red, then brown, then black and flake off like burnt parchment. She could see her bones, white beneath burning muscle, and that is when she screamed.

When she felt his warmth around her, it almost unnerved her, but she slowly calmed down and realized she wasn't burning alive. She had simply been having a nightmare, and now Peeta had his arms wrapped around her, one hand stroking her hair, his mouth pressed near her ear murmuring reassurances. She was gasping for air as if smoke still surrounded her, her chest heaving. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, the taste of ash still on her tongue. With the cold weather, Peeta had been keeping a fire in the hearth in the evenings. He had been scarred by the same flames as she had, yet he seemed perfectly fine around the fires of his ovens or the fireplace. Katniss could not bring herself to go near the fire, however innocuous it might appear. She enjoyed warmth, yes, but with Peeta's constant presence at night, she had no need of a fire.

Some nights he would ask her what her nightmares held. Other nights he would stay silent as she came back from some dark and terrible place. A place she could not name. Some nights she would be the one holding him, calling him back into the world of the living with soft whispers and gentle touches.

"I was on fire," she offered that night, not waiting for Peeta to ask. "I was burning alive like…like in the Capitol," she managed to get out before her voice trembled and broke into wracking sobs. She buried her head in his chest, her tears soaking the front of his shirt as she cried openly, bitterly. He held her even closer, his cheek pressed against her hair.

"It's ok, Katniss…it's ok…" He whispered.

She had sat up quickly in bed when he woke her from her screams, and so now they were sitting, knees pressed together, as he held her against him. And she knew that he wasn't telling her that her nightmare was ok, or that the world and what it had done to them was ok. No, he was telling her that it was ok to cry and to scream. It was ok to mourn the loss of something precious. It was ok to wish that the world was not such a cruel place.

Once her violent sobs had dissolved into quiet whimpers, he pulled her down with him so that they were lying in bed. She clung to the fabric of his shirt as if it was the only thing holding her on earth and he suddenly felt like she _was_ an angel. He felt as if the comparison he had made those many weeks ago after she had crawled into bed with him was true. She _was_ an angel and she was crying over the loss of her wings. His hands found her back and he began to trace the pattern of feathers over her nightgown. She was thin – he could feel her shoulder blades jutting out at sharp angles, and if he pressed firmly enough he could feel each knot of her spine. She shivered against him as he stroked her back and he wondered if it was from crying or if it was something else. He knew he could have taken one hand and found the curve of her jaw. He knew that he could tilt her chin up until she was looking at him, so that he could close the distance between them and press his lips to hers. He imagined that perhaps, in her disquiet over the nightmare, she would kiss him back fiercely, pressing her body even closer to his. But he shook the thought out of his head. It was enough to hold her in his arms, to whisper comforting words in her ear. He did not want to take advantage of her vulnerability after a nightmare. And so he let her fall asleep, her fingers slacking on their grip of his shirt ever so slightly as her breathing grew more shallow and sleep claimed her.

Katniss woke early that morning to the sound of Peeta in the shower. She lay in bed until he returned from the bathroom toweling off his wet hair, already in his work clothes. She jumped out of bed, the cool morning air sending goose bumps down her bare arms. She wrapped her arms around herself and ran toward the bathroom, careful not to trip on her ankle-length nightgown. Peeta laughed and where once she would have yelled at him that it was cold, she just smiled as she shut the bathroom door behind her. It was Election Day.

They made their way to town together that morning. Katniss could count on one hand the number of times they had walked that way since their return, together, and so early in the morning. It was late for Peeta, though, but Marc was opening the bakery. So he matched his pace with Katniss's – or at least tried to, Katniss having to slow down her normal brisk speed for the early morning stiffness of his left leg. The Victor's Village was quiet except for the dull metronome of a dog barking off in the distance. It was probably barking at them, she mused, smiling to herself. Yes, they _were_ strange creatures, she thought, and Peeta caught a glimpse of her smile.

She half expected him to ask her just what she was smiling about, but he didn't. Instead he broke out in a wide grin and laced his fingers in hers. The chill in her extremities soon departed, her feet warm from walking, her right hand warm from holding his. The cold seeped into her left hand, though, exposed to the weather, and so she reached across and laid it over their clasped hands. Peeta almost jumped from her cold touch and she could have laughed.

"Sorry," she said, not feeling guilty at all, "my hand was cold." He chuckled.

"Are you sure you're not made of ice?" He teased and she dug her bony shoulder into his arm, pushing him a few steps off balance.

"I'm the Girl on Fire, remember?" She said in a light tone before she could think. Then she remembered her nightmare and her scars and the words haunted her all the way to the town square.

The tall trees around the lane gave way to the open square, and Katniss could see smoke rising from countless chimneys. She was glad the huge screens and platform that had once filled the square were torn down after the bombing. Or at least what was left of them had been torn down. Now the square looked less menacing and Katniss could almost pretend that she had been reaped not there but somewhere else. The buildings were so new that she could imagine it was a different town, a different District Twelve. And in many ways, it was.

Many of the businesses were already open that morning, lights on and bells on doors jingling as people went in and out. Months ago perhaps, Katniss would have dropped Peeta's hand as soon as other people were around. But she held on even tighter once they were in town, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Tables had been set up in front of the half dozen voting booths. Familiar and mostly older faces manned the tables, and lines were already forming. Katniss and Peeta hadn't even gotten in line yet when folks began approaching him to say hello or to talk. She slipped her hand from his so he could wander off and have his conversations, and ducked her head as she got in line behind one of the tables. He turned and gave her an apologetic look followed by a smile. He stood off to the side of the booths, surrounded by three or four men who were all talking animatedly. Others would call out to him and he would wave as they walked by, or shake their hands as they joined the group. Katniss recognized some of the men, but couldn't name half. She shook her head, but there was a smile on her face.

It should have been Peeta there beside her during all the publicity in District Thirteen. He should have been the face of the rebellion, not a quiet, sullen girl from the Seam. But fate – though she didn't really believe in fate – had had other plans. The ache in her chest was cold and sharp, and she realized there was a significant gap between her and the girl in front of her in line. The people waiting behind her were giving her looks, but none had spoken. She closed the gap, the smile wiped off her face. The few girls in line ahead of her were her age or a few years old and were talking energetically. She could overhear parts of their conversation.

"Oh, look, look!" One girl urged another, grabbing her arm and pointing toward something. "There he is!" _Someone_ not something, then. There were a few suppressed squeals and giggles.

"I would vote for _him_," A third girl announced in a wistful tone.

Katniss held back the urge to roll her eyes. She had heard comments like that about countless young men. She knew there had been plenty of girls jealous of her spending time with Gale, even if he was her "cousin." Of course the girls of the Seam had known that was a ruse and had stared daggers at her on many occasions. But whom were they talking about now? Katniss had hardly noticed any of the young men who had moved back into the district. There was Marc, who was decent-looking, but he was married, though Katniss did not put it past those girls to make such comments about someone who was obviously taken. There was Theo, also married, who was probably thirty and could have easily been Thresh's older brother or cousin, the same dark skin, the same piercing eyes and muscular build. The line moved and she took the opportunity to stand a little closer behind the gaggle of girls.

"Oh yeah, I buy a cupcake from him every day and he smiles right at me!" One girl chimed in. Another giggled and then spoke.

"He has the most beautiful blue eyes! He was always my favorite…" The girl's voice trailed off as Katniss was consumed by her own thought.

Peeta. They were talking about – no, staring and giggling about Peeta. They had been pointing right where he was having an animated conversation with a few other men at the edge of the voting booths. The cupcakes, the eyes, the talk of him being a "favorite." A favorite in the games? A favorite in the Quarter Quell? Katniss had to clinch her fists, raw anger surging up in her. Something else stirred within her as well, and the word "jealous" popped up in her head. Her cheeks turned bright red, but she told herself it was from her anger. The young women had obviously not noticed or recognized her, or else they would not have spoken so freely in front of her. Katniss had to stop herself from clearing her throat or making some other noise and getting their attention. She almost wanted to see the embarrassed expressions on their faces, but then again, she didn't desire that much attention.

"He's taken," a gruff voice said loudly from ahead of them. It took a moment for the girls to realize the person had spoken to them. But once they realized their conversation had been overheard and what had been said, they tensed and Katniss could have smiled to herself to see their necks turn increasingly pink. Katniss had ducked her head, but she looked up and met Greasy Sae's gaze from a few feet in front of the gaggle of girls. The older woman smiled briefly in Katniss's direction and then turned back toward the voting booths.

The girls were quiet after that. The line moved quickly and soon Katniss was waiting for her turn. The girls came out of their booths and met Katniss's gaze for half a second before they blushed and hurried off. She smirked to herself as she filled out a card with all of her information and then stepped behind the curtain to vote.

Afterward she caught up with Peeta, who had finally made his way to the back of the line to vote. She linked her arm through his and he smiled down at her.

"Looks like you have a few admirers," she spoke softly, nodding toward the familiar group of girls who were now stealing glances at him from across the square. He slid his arm from hers and wrapped it around her, his hand firmly resting on her waist. She suddenly felt warm all over despite the chilly morning air.

"Well, they _are_ loyal customers of the bakery," he said, teasing, his hand squeezing her waist.

Katniss scowled at him and half pulled away. He tightened his grip on her though and pulled her even closer. She almost stumbled as they moved up in the line together. They stepped up to the table and Peeta greeted the older woman handing out registration cards. He planted a kiss on Katniss's brow before she left the line so that he could take his place in one of the booths.

Katniss waited at the edge of the square as Peeta voted. Walking out of the booth, he took a minute to find her. His face lit up when he caught sight of her and they waved their goodbyes, Katniss heading back toward the Victor's Village and Peeta heading into the bakery.

Katniss sat on her couch later that day, after calling to check in with her mother and Dr. Aurelius. The results of the election would be broadcast on a local channel a few hours after the polls closed that night. Katniss diligently reported all the candidates and positions to her mother who acted appropriately interested. But she knew that the older woman had spent the past few months trying to build a new life in District Four.

Ever since the Harvest Festival, an idea had been growing in Katniss's mind. She kept it to herself, staring across the empty house in the silence that followed her phone calls. Some of the booths at the festival had displayed pieces of handmade jewelry. Some had been skillfully twisted from pieces of wire, while others were semi-precious stones extending from leather loops or delicate chains. The settings on the jewelry had caused the idea to blossom, and she wracked her brain for the names of the people behind those booths. Of course Peeta would know, but if she asked, he might grow curious. Perhaps Greasy Sae would know. She set her jaw and resolved to ask the older woman the next night that she cooked dinner for them.

She was going to get a setting for the pearl.

Two nights later over sautéed wild greens and vegetables from Greasy Sae's garden, Katniss asked the older woman about the jewelry booths. Greasy Sae gave her a long look and stopped stirring the vegetables. Katniss, perched on her stool, her elbows propped up on the counter, just stared at her hands as if her fingers were the most interesting things in the world. Greasy Sae turned back toward her skillet and appeared to be thinking.

"Hmmm," she said. "That'd be Carol Ann.". Greasy Sae grew quiet and Katniss thought for a moment that she would have to ask the older woman how to find this Carol Ann.

"She lives over by the mines. Third house over, I think," the older woman said, looking off as she thought.

Katniss nodded and thanked her for the information, repeating it over and over in her head to memorize it. Peeta came through the backdoor a few minutes later, closing out the autumn darkness behind him. His smile was the only light she needed. Katniss gave Greasy Sae a look, briefly, and prayed that the older woman got the hint to not mention the jewelry booth or Carol Ann. Greasy Sae checked the roasting meat in the oven and kept quiet.

"Have any_ loyal customers_ at the bakery today?" Katniss couldn't resist the jest, smirking at him from her perch. Greasy Sae gave them both a knowing look.

"I think you scared them off." He said, mock disappointment in his voice. "Now who am I going to get to buy all those cupcakes?"

She nudged his shoulder playfully as he took up his seat on a stool next to hers. They both scrambled off quickly, however, when Greasy Sae crossed her arms and announced that the dinner wasn't going to serve itself. Their plates full a few minutes later, Peeta shoveled the food in his mouth as if he hadn't eaten in days, thanking Greasy Sae profusely between bites. Katniss picked at her food not without notice from both Peeta and Greasy Sae. Her appetite had been off for the past month or so, her stomach prone to sudden lurches when a particularly painful memory crossed her mind. Or when she thought of how Peeta could possibly react to the confession of her feelings.

Greasy Sae tutted her disapproval when Katniss dumped the rest of her plate of food into the trash. Katniss started washing the few dishes they had dirtied in the sink as Greasy Sae left with her bags, Peeta calling out a cheery goodbye and his thanks, again. He joined Katniss at the sink.

"Everything is ok, right?" He asked, pushing his side flush up against her. She turned her head quickly and dropped the dish she had been cleaning back into the warm water. Whatever she might have said to alleviate his worries, in that instant her face betrayed her.

"Nothing is _wrong_..." She said slowly, trying to find the right words to explain herself. "It's just...I'm happy. I really am." She assured him, her words coming out a bit too quickly.

Her face had broken out into a wide grin, though, and she tried to imitate one of his bright smiles. He moved behind her wordlessly and wrapped his arms around her waist, his body flush against hers. She reveled in the feel of him against her for a moment, her arms frozen in place. Then she turned her head and gave him a look that said he was interrupting her chores. He backed off laughing quietly to himself, and retreated to the couch, turning the TV screen on.

Katniss finished washing and drying the dishes, listening to the faint sound of the newscast. Peeta was laying on the couch, his left leg propped up, by the time she joined him in the living room. He went to move so she could sit on the couch, but she stopped him and positioned herself beside him, her legs stretched out. He wrapped one arm around her middle and she leaned her back against his warm chest.

The reporter on the screen was droning on about the construction in town as the numbers from the polls were still coming in. Katniss tried to at least half pay attention to the television, but her eyelids began to droop after a while. The light was bothering her eyes and so she rolled over and buried her head into Peeta's chest. Soon her breathing grew slow and steady and he covered them both with an old quilt from the back of the couch. And just as she was dozing off, she heard him speak as if he were casting a spell.

"I love you."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** Yay, chapter 19! There's some more fluff for everyone, and a field is planted! Also, an actual SC character makes a reappearance and...well, you'll see. Thanks for all the amazing feedback and comments. And this story is not going to end with the "You love me, real or not real?" line but will extend past that, so no worries! I'm having too much fun writing this to stop at that. I can't believe it's up to 19 chapters! Thanks again to all of my readers and reviewers.

* * *

"Anabel asked if you want to help plant the field tomorrow," Peeta said. "Marc told me," he added. Katniss turned her head to look at him and nodded an "ok."

It had been a few weeks since the Harvest Festival and the elections and the nights were steadily dropping in temperature. Peeta had tinkered with the central heating, but in some time between the Quarter Quell and the bombing, the heating and air had both gone out. Fires in the hearth were nightly occurrences now, and Peeta had ordered an electric space heater that was currently plugged in beside the bed. Katniss was lying on the bed on her stomach, legs stretched out behind her. She could feel each stitch of the quilt on her torso because from the waist up, she was bare.

The cold weather had prompted her to take increasingly hot showers, and the hot water had wrecked havoc on her damaged skin. Peeta had noticed the poor condition of her skin through her thin cotton nightgown and had practically forced her to let him rub the medicated creams on her back. She had turned a bright shade of red at first, but had prayed that he mistook it for an effect of her recent hot shower. She thought back to her jest, months ago, about getting each others' backs, and smiled to herself. Once the salve – along with his strong hands – touched the skin of her back, though, she let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. He spread the salve generously over her back and arms and neck and then spent time tracing patterns over her soothed skin. The salve that he was using smelled of baked sugar and Katniss wondered if it tasted as sweet as it smelled. She giggled when Peeta's fingers ghosted over a particularly ticklish spot near her waist.

"Oh," Peeta said suddenly, remembereding something, "I saw Leevy today. She came by the bakery. She asked about you," he finished.

"Leevy? Really?" Katniss spoke with genuine surprise, pushed herself up off the bed, and turned toward Peeta, nearly forgetting that her chest was bare. She remembered in time, though, and held the quilt against herself.

"Yeah, I think she just moved back," Peeta replied, sitting on the end of the bed.

Katniss turned back toward the bed, pulling at a thread that had come loose from the quilt. Her surprise had turned to careful thought. Leevy had been her neighbor at the old house. They had played together as children, gone to school together. Leevy had the Seam look about her as well and they could have passed as sisters. Katniss balled the quilt in her fists as images of her real sister, her gone forever sister, Prim swam across her vision. She remembered the crunching of snow beneath her boots as the men had carried a weak and bleeding Gale to her house. She remembered telling Leevy to fetch Hazelle. Her heart almost couldn't bear the thought of how much she had loved Gale _and_ the tug of her feelings for Peeta. After all the months together, back in District Twelve, she knew for a fact that Peeta loved her. Of course he had loved her before. Before the hijacking. Before he had tried to kill her. Before he had yelled at her and accused her of terrible acts and called her a mutt. Whatever reversal process the doctors in the Capitol had tried on him, it had worked for the most part. And she knew that through her actions and by being back in a familiar place, he was recovering beyond what any doctor had originally thought possible. And others had been key to his success as well. If she ever saw Delly Cartwright again, Katniss was sure she could never thank her enough.

And she wanted to tell him that she loved him. She did. But he had spoken those three words when he thought she was asleep, and it was easier to just pretend that she _had_ dozed off that night. Truthfully, she was still afraid of his reaction. Even though she knew he loved her, what would it mean once she said it aloud? It was as if her words might break the spell that had been cast over them. Holding onto the pearl in District Thirteen and waiting for his return, then having her hopes dashed in front of her eyes when he came back brainwashed had done something to her. She had been strong – all those years of providing for her mother and Prim, winning the games and surviving the Quarter Quell to lead a rebellion. Yet the moment she had seen his face contorted in rage against her, she had felt weak and helpless. Each small victory had built her strength back, though. The first time she was able to hold a conversation with him after his return to the district. Once they started sharing their meals – and more time – together. The kiss in his smoke-filled house. Holding him after a flashback. Each time their fingers laced together. Each was a victory and a blessing and a piece of hope restored.

"Katniss…?" Peeta asked, his hand resting on her bare shoulder. He was sitting farther up in bed, a look of concern on his face. He had been talking, she realized then, while she had been absorbed in her thoughts. She shook her head and smiled up at him, suddenly self-conscious of her exposed skin now that he was done rubbing in the salve.

"Want me to get your back?" She asked as she turned over, covering her chest with the quilt. He answered yes and turned to face the wall as she slid off the bed and changed into her nightgown.

Peeta tugged off his shirt and took up her spot on the bed, his legs hanging off. She smoothed the sweet smelling salve over the scars on his back, neck, and arms, her fingers tracing each pink line that marred his pale skin. He shuddered at her touch, and she told herself that it was from the chilly night air. Her hands had been cold, but his whole body radiated heat as if he were the sun, and soon she was warm all over, working the salve into his skin. Her cheeks turned pink to think of the intimacy of it, so she tried to focus on the clinical aspect. She tried, and failed, feeling hard muscle stretch beneath his skin. She made him turn over so that she could rub the medicated cream onto the scars on his shoulders and chest and forehead. She followed the pink lines again, trying not to notice that his gaze was fixed on her face. Her left hand traced the scars that whirled across his forehead while her right hand pushed his blond locks out of the way.

He stayed her left hand halfway across his forehead, his fingers curled around her wrist. Her eyes locked with his for a moment before his eyelids fluttered closed and he pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. Her breath caught in her throat and her body betrayed her with a shudder. Suddenly his blue eyes were open again, searching her face. And then his other hand was on her arm, pulling her down toward him. He met her halfway, his mouth warm and inviting and guiding her down to the bed. She let gravity aid her as she pressed her lips firmly to his. His arms were around her and her body flush against his and she felt impossibly warm. The kiss began to intensify and just as she felt as if she were going to burst if his hands didn't pull at the fabric of her gown, he slowed the kiss down and broke away. Her eyes fluttered open and found his blue ones filled with something she couldn't quite place. She was tempted to close her eyes and press her lips back to his so that she wouldn't have to think, but she could tell he had something to say.

She sat back up on the edge of the bed and he pushed himself up to sitting as well, his bare chest still heaving slightly. His hands found hers and he stared at their fingers entwined.

"You don't have to say anything," he started, still staring at their hands. "In fact, I don't want you to say anything. I just need to say it," he said, his gaze finally meeting hers, and she knew the words he would say before he even spoke.

"I love you."

She wanted to tell him that she loved him too. She wanted to say those words and assure him that she wasn't just saying it because he had said it first. And she wanted to tell him how much she had missed him when they had been apart. How that the Peeta they had first rescued – the angry, unhinged, deluded Peeta – was not who he was now. That who he was now, so much like his former self, was like waking to find that all those horrible things had been a nightmare. She wanted to tell him that he was her sun, her light, her radiance and that she had grown and blossomed under his careful tending. She wanted to tell him that each day was a miracle because he was in it. That despite what questions he still had, despite playing "Real or Not Real," he was hers and always had been.

Instead of saying anything, and perhaps because he had told her not to say anything, she leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. It lacked the urgency she had felt before, but this kiss held a promise of hope and love. He broke it off all too soon, though, his face tired and worn. He stood to turn off the light and soon they were curled together in bed, the lingering hunger in her belly having nothing to do with food.

The chilly earth crunched beneath her boots as she made her way toward the edge of town the next morning to help plant the winter wheat. She was wearing pants and an old long-sleeve tunic and her father's hunting jacket, but she was still cold. Her breath ghosted out in front of her as she walked. She knew that once she started working in the field, she would be warmer. She met a dozen others heading that same way that morning. All they were lacking were hardhats and pick axes or else they could have been off to work the mines. So many countless mornings she had seen the men marching off to work as if marching off to war, hard lines set on their faces, tools slung across their shoulders like weapons. And she had hugged her father, at first around his long legs when she had been too short, before he left for the day. And one day he had never returned. Her life had started changing that day, almost eight years ago. With an ache in her heart she realized she had spent almost half of her life now without her father.

She passed the end of the lane where a few lonely houses stood – she made a mental note that Carol Ann's was the third on the left – and the road ended where the entrance of the mine had once stood. She had watched, months ago, as they bulldozed over the remains and leveled off the land. Now there were nearly forty or fifty people in their dingiest work clothes ready to plant. A horse whinnied and Katniss saw a tall man hooking up a large bay gelding to a plough. There were hoes and rakes and shovels all propped up on the wooden fence marking off the field.

"Katniss!" A familiar voice called out and Katniss turned to her left to see Anabel lifting her skirt so she wouldn't trip as she practically ran toward her. She stopped to catch her breath for a moment before speaking again. "I'm so glad you're here to help! There's plenty of work to be done." She smiled at Katniss and Katniss felt the corners of her mouth twitch up in response.

The crowd of people was growing larger as the sun crept higher into the sky. The man with the horse was leading the animal around, the plough cutting into the earth. A group of a dozen or so people followed behind the horse, six on each side of a rut, using hoes and other tools to till up the earth even further. Then a group of women, baskets on their hips, walked behind, tossing handfuls of seeds into the deep ruts. Katniss joined the last group of people – the ones that followed the women who were planting – and used hoes and shovels and rakes to cover the seeds with dirt. She soon cleared out her mind of all nagging thoughts and focused on the work, sweat beading on her brow halfway down the first row. There were many familiar faces out that day – Anabel with her basket full of seeds, Thom who had been named mayor just a few weeks ago, and other faces she recognized from the district. The couple from District Eight – Rolf and Hally, she finally remembered – was there, and Katniss nodded her head when they gave her short smiles. A few hours into the morning, she caught sight of a thin girl with long, black her and gray eyes that mirrored her own. Leevy.

Katniss waited til they had stopped for a lunch break to speak to her, holding her tool nervously in both hands. Greasy Sae and a handful of older women had come out late in the morning and set up tables filled with food. Katniss hungrily eyed the tureens of hearty stew, pans of potatoes and herbs, the freshly baked loaves of bread that had just come from the bakery, and warm mugs of tea and coffee, steam curling up to the heavens in supplication. She waited her turn in line around the tables to get her lunch, nodding when Thom and some of the other men from the mines greeted her. She was just grabbing a slice of bread when a soft, familiar voice spoke her name.

"Katniss…" It was Leevy, her voice reserved.

Something passed between them, and Katniss suddenly imagined how her life would have turned out had Prim not been reaped and she not volunteered. She might still be a girl of the Seam, hunting and working hard to keep her family alive. Perhaps she would have given in one day and married Gale. And perhaps he would have gently coaxed her, and after a few years there would be children the perfect mirror of their parents, gray eyes and dark hair and olive skin. The afternoon air was warmer, but it still caught in her throat.

"I'm sorry about –" Leevy started.

"So, you moved back?" Katniss cut her off with a question, finding a spot to sit and eat. What was Leevy sorry about? Sorry about Prim? Sorry about her mother moving off to District Four? Sorry about Gale? Katniss swallowed hard and stared intently at her plate of food.

"Yeah, just moved back," Leevy responded, blowing on her mug of tea to cool it off. "We have a house not far from the town square now." She continued.

Now. Now that the district had been rebuilt after the firebombing. Now that their old scatter of houses were reduced to mostly ash and rubble. Katniss wondered suddenly if the other girl had been by the old houses to see the damage. Had she stared at Katniss's old house that had somehow managed to escape the worst of the bombing? Had she gone searching the ruins of her family's house to find old trinkets and photos? Katniss blinked back tears and focused on chewing the stringy meat of the stew. As if Leevy sensed Katniss's disquiet, she grew silent and ate her food. Katniss was finished picking at her food long before the other girl, and so she forced a smile when she offered to take both of their plates to the trash. Greasy Sae gave Katniss a look when she saw Leevy standing a few yards away. It was as if the older woman was telling her to be nice, and Katniss felt a twinge of guilt at being so short with the Leevy.

The rest of the day Katniss focused on the smell of dirt and the feel of her muscles stretching as she worked. She was warm and covered in sweat by the time the field was finished, her father's hunting jacket having been hung on a wooden fence post. The sun was just beginning to set and shadows were falling across the field when their work was done. Katniss leaned her rake against the fence in a line with the other tools. Some had brought their own tools, wooden handles slung over one shoulder as they headed home for the night. The tall man was unhooking the leather straps from his horse near Katniss, the plough harness falling slowly to the earth. She smiled when the horse let out a shuddering breath of relief and she cautiously closed the distance between them. Her hand found the soft skin of his neck, and she slid her hand down repeatedly, a wide grin breaking out across her face. The horse's owner coiled up the leather straps but watched her from the corner of his eye. The horse was sweet and gentle, though, turning his head and nudging Katniss's belly. She wanted to laugh aloud as the horse's quivering lips tugged on the fabric of her shirt and his nose sniffed about for a treat. She gave him an apologetic smile as she held up an empty palm for him to inspect, then ran her hand over his velvet nose. She patted his forehead before she turned to go, the owner waiting to lead his horse off in the other direction.

Greasy Sae was at the edge of the crowd, loaded down with cooking utensils and leftovers, a few strong men carrying the tables back toward town. Katniss grabbed her father's hunting jacket and caught up with the older woman, offering to carry a large pot of leftover stew. Greasy Sae gave her a long look, but they walked in silence for a while, Katniss's normal brisk pace slowed down with the heavy burden she carried. Anabel rushed by quickly, thanking Katniss and Greasy Sae repeatedly for the their help. Katniss cocked her head in thought as the young woman bounded off to thank others, realizing that she must have been the one to organize the whole event. She had a sneaking suspicion that Peeta had his hand in it too, but he was back at the bakery working. She thought of their passionate kiss and his "I love you" from the night before and her cheeks colored.

"Have you told that boy how you feel about him yet?" Greasy Sae asked as if she could read Katniss's mind, her tone stern.

"He knows," Katniss said. She wasn't quite lying. Though she hadn't spoken those three exact words, she had begun to show him gradually, in the best way she knew how. Greasy Sae made a noise of disapproval and gave her a doubtful look.

"And you be nice to Leevy," Greasy Sae added, an edge of protectiveness in her voice. "She's not much different than you are."

Katniss felt another twinge of guilt. She remembered seeing Leevy in District Thirteen. It was true, Leevy _had_ been through a lot. Katniss might have been part of a rebellion, but Leevy had survived the firebombing. She could remember the other girl's younger brother – though his name escaped her – his wide, gray eyes and dark hair that clung to his forehead, sick with the measles. She turned to look at Greasy Sae and nodded slowly, a look of half-apology on her face. Leevy had been nice enough to ask Peeta about her, yet Katniss had given little thought to anyone other than herself in the past few months. Though she had slowly pulled herself out of her depression, she suddenly realized that she was acting very self-absorbed.

They walked in silence back down the lane, parting ways at the house Greasy Sae pointed out as Carol Ann's. Greasy Sae barked for a young boy to come help her carry her things and the boy ran over quickly to help. Katniss waved her goodbye and stared at the modest little structure with a ramshackle wooden fence around the yard. Before she could stop herself, she pushed through the gate and marched across the small yard to knock on the door. In the gray twilight, she could make out candlelight from inside the house, so someone had to be home. The door opened wide enough for a face to appear. Gray eyes caught Katniss's and a flicker of recognistion crossed the older face. The door swung open and Katniss was greeted with a smile.

"Hi there," Carol Ann said pleasantly, inviting Katniss in. Katniss recognized her from the Harvest Festival at once, her black hair showing streaks of gray and her once round face sunken and hollow.

"Sae told me you were going to stop by, I just didn't know when."

She offered Katniss a seat in a hard wooden chair and a cup of tea. Katniss declined the tea but sat down, trying not to stare at her boots.

"You had a question about the jewelry?" Carol Ann offered after a few minutes of awkward silence. Katniss breathed a sigh of relief and turned her mind toward the pearl.

"Yes…yes ma'am," she said, trying not to stumble over her words. "See, I have a pearl and…and I want to get a setting for it so I can hang it on a chain." The words tumbled out and it took the older woman a moment before it all registered. The older woman's face lit up, though, and she spoke.

"Oh, do you want it on a necklace or a bracelet?" Carol Ann asked, smiling.

"A necklace," Katniss responded, thinking of tucking the pearl into her shirt when she went hunting and she could almost feel the weight and smoothness of it against her skin.

"Well that'll be pretty," The older woman chirped happily. "I have just the thing." She stood and crossed the tiny room to a large set of drawers. After rummaging for a minute, she pulled out a shining chain and a tiny bag.

Carol Ann showed the chain to Katniss and let her hold it. It was made of a shiny, silver metal not overly showy, but not too dull either. Then she showed Katniss a tiny curved piece of metal, explaining how it would be drilled carefully into the pearl so that the curved end stuck out to clasp to the chain.

"So you can bring the pearl by any time," Carol Ann was saying, and Katniss felt her stomach lurch at the thought of having to leave the pearl with someone she barely knew. "I can fix it up while you wait, even." The older woman added, though, and Katniss smiled with relief.

"How much?" Katniss asked, still holding the shiny chain, its tiny links glittering.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Carol Ann said, waving a dismissive hand at her. Katniss opened her mouth to protest, but the older woman spoke again. "Really, it's nothing. Especially for a friend of Sae's."

But Katniss knew she wasn't just Greasy Sae's friend. The older woman had been her much-needed caretaker for months, cooking and cleaning. Now she might only come by two or three nights a week, but she had become family. And Katniss also knew that Carol Ann wasn't just giving her a discount for knowing Greasy Sae. She would have had to live in cave for the past two years not to know exactly who Katniss was and what she had done. She didn't deserve special treament, though, and so she set her jaw and resolved to pay the older woman when she brought the pearl by, no matter how much she protested. Carol Ann called out a goodbye as Katniss closed the little wooden gate behind her.

And so she set off toward the Victor's Village, the sun sinking even lower behind the trees, the thought of the pearl making her steps lighter despite a day full of hard wok.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** Uh oh, there's some drama and angst in this chapter. I really hope it's not too ridiculous or off character. I just felt like Katniss needed a little reality check. You'll see. So hope you enjoy the chapter and please leave feedback! I adore each and everyone of you that reads my story and those of you that review. You guys are the best!

* * *

She had climbed up a tall oak, her legs straddling one of its sturdy branches, her bow poised for the kill. There were two squirrels frolicking in the cool weather and she had them both in her sights. If she was fast enough, she could shoot both. She pulled the bowstring and arrow taut, her gaze calculating the exact position she would need for the kill. But before she could loose her arrow, there was a different noise and the squirrels took off around a large tree trunk. She lowered her bow and one of Haymitch's curses came to mind. She looked below her to see what had caused the noise.

Thom was staring up at her from below. He didn't smile when her eyes met his. Thom often hunted the woods, but being busy as of late with his mayoral duties, it had been weeks since she'd caught sight of him in the forest. Something was wrong.

"Katniss," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm glad I found you. There's been an accident."

_Accident?_ The last time she had been told that, it had been the explosion at the mine. The explosion that killed her father. Her heart beat out of time in her chest and she had to grab the large branch to steady herself, the world spinning across her vision. _Who was hurt now?_ She slung her bow over her shoulder and scooted down the tree as fast as possible without fear of injury. The woods had grown silent, but then she realized Thom was saying something. The expression in her eyes, now that she was on the ground with him, must have revealed that she hadn't understood.

"He's ok," Thom repeated himself, "It's Peeta, but he's ok."

Peeta. Peeta. PEETA. Her mind screamed at her and she saw the bakery going up in flames or his house exploding or some other atrocity. And then she was off, running as fast as her legs would carry her toward town, leaves crunching beneath, louder with each step as if they were encouraging her to run faster. She heard the din of Thom's voice behind her.

"He's at your house!" He was shouting. Katniss changed her direction slightly, heading back toward the Victor's Village instead of town.

Her lungs were screaming in protest by the time she reached the open lane. Her boots thudded on the packed earth, mirroring the drumming of her heart in her chest. She threw down her bow and quiver and pack on the porch and burst in through the front door. The living room was brightly lit and the contrast from the dull gray of the cloudy autumn day took her off guard, but only for a moment. Several heads turned to stare at her. She scanned their faces, but none were Peeta. Marc and Theo were there, and Anabel. And Greasy Sae. They were hovering around the couch, and when the initial shock of seeing Katniss burst through the front door wore off, they moved out of her way.

Peeta was sitting on the couch, a dopey grin on his face and a cloth bandage wrapped tight around his forehead.

"Hey, sorry…" He said, still smiling, when he saw her.

She was at the couch in an instant, leaning over him, her hands cupping his face.

"Are you all right? What happened?" She asked, her hands ghosting over his jaw, his cheeks, his temple where the bandage was wrapped.

Marc and Theo and Anabel had stepped back and were pretending to busy themselves with other things. Greasy Sae led them into the kitchen, but Katniss was only paying attention to Peeta. He reached up and wrapped his hand around one of her wrists. He pulled her hand down so that it rested on his leg, his fingers clutching hers.

"Oh, I fell," he said, chuckling under his breath. "There was a spill at the bakery and I slipped. Banged up my head pretty good." He continued, patting the bandage on his temple.

He had spoken with nonchalance, but Katniss's stomach was still tied in knots and her heart beat up in her throat. She pulled away from his grip and placed both hands on either side of his face, tilting his head up so that their gazes met. Her eyes searched his face, his head. That's when she saw the bit of matted blood in his hair. Her eyes grew wide and her breath caught in her throat. She suddenly felt dizzy.

"You're bleeding," She managed breathlessly.

"Oh, that," he said, touching the back of his head where thick gauze poked out of the bandage. "I caught the edge of the counter on my way down." He responded as if it were nothing.

"We called the doc," Katniss turned and saw Marc standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, his arms crossed.

"Yeah, Dr. Aurelius wants me to come to the Capitol to run some tests…" Peeta said, a sheepish grin on his face.

_The Capitol?_ Katniss wasn't sure if it were real or a nightmare. Peeta gone to the Capitol? Tests? Her mind reeled and she thought she was going to hit the floor. Her knees buckled and a dark curtain threatened to descend across her vision. Suddenly two pairs of arms were supporting her and leading her into one of the high-backed armchairs. She slumped back into its cushions soundlessly, telling herself she needed to breathe. Once she had taken a few deep breaths her head no longer felt as if it were spinning.

"They just want to make sure everything's all right," Peeta was saying, "you know, because of the hijacking and all…" His tone was soft now, as if she were the only one in the room. She stayed slumped in the armchair.

"He hit his head pretty hard," Marc added. "And after, he was saying stuff. Stuff that didn't make sense." Greasy Sae cleared her throat loudly from the kitchen and gave Marc a hard look.

What did he mean, saying stuff? Katniss thought back to District Thirteen, when Peeta had just been rescued. How he would seem to hold conversations with himself in angry pained tones. How he yelled at her and accused her of all sorts of heinous things. What if he hit his head so hard that the hijacked Peeta took over again? Did he hate her? Or would that slowly come out as everything the doctors had done to reverse the brainwashing was erased? She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to think of those awful times when her dreams had crumbled and her hopes had been dashed. She pressed her face into her hands and held back a sob. After a few minutes, she heard movement as Greasy Sae, half-whispering, told the others to go. There were muted words and the sounds of the front door opening and closing. She looked up when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Greasy Sae looked down at her with a knowing, yet comforting, look on her face. And then the older woman was gone, the front door closing behind her.

Katniss looked up at Peeta who was staring down at his shoes. He didn't seem to hate her. He didn't appear to be having trouble sitting so near to her. He picked up a neglected ice pack from an end table and pressed it to his head. He caught her looking at him and their eyes met. Katniss exhaled slowly and moved toward him, leaning down again to put her hands on either side of his face. They were quiet for a long while.

"Really," Peeta spoke, breaking the silence, "I _am_ ok. Just banged up. Dr. Aurelius wants to do some scans to make sure everything's ok."

"When do you leave?" Katniss asked, her eyes still locked with his.

"This afternoon." He said. It took half a second for it to sink in, but when it did, Katniss wanted to scream. Her face betrayed her and Peeta tried to calm her down.

"It's ok, Katniss…" His voice trailed off as she grabbed the telephone and marched toward the kitchen, pulling its cord taut. She dialed the number with fury, her chest heaving.

"Hello – ' Dr. Aurelius started, but she cut him off in a pained whisper.

"How _dare_ you. How _dare_ you take him from me." She said, her words dripping venom. "You _know_ I can't go to the Capitol."

"Katniss," Dr. Aurelius spoke calmly. "We need to run some tests, to make sure nothing is wrong. It'll just be for a few days."

She knew the doctor was right. She hung up the phone, though. She wanted to scream and cry and tear at her hair. She wanted to curl up in her bed, comforted by her own sobs, and not move for days. How could they send him back to District Twelve, stick him next door to her knowing what would happen, then yank him back with no regard for her feelings? Knowing that she couldn't go with him? And for a 'few' days? What did that even mean? What if a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks turned into a few months? What if they never let him return? Would she be cursed to haunt the district while he was kept in the Capitol? He was part of her life now. No, he _was_ her life now.

She heard movement from the living room and realized she had been gripping the kitchen counter, her knuckles white. She turned to see Peeta enter the kitchen, a little more wobbly-legged than normal. He placed his hands on her waist, and with the thought of him leaving, the warmth wasn't as comforting. He held her gaze in his while she calmed down, her breathing evening out. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, his bandage feeling alien on her skin. She closed her eyes, though, her hands gripping his arms.

"Katniss…" He breathed. "It's just for a few days. It'll be ok." She swallowed hard and pulled her forehead away from his. His eyes opened and found hers.

"Peeta, I…" She knew she had to say it, even though he knew how she felt, but the words threatened to stick in her throat.

"I love you." The words flowed out before she could stop herself and hung in the air between them. She felt relief, though, and something warm growing within her. His blue eyes were wide as realization dawned across his face.

"I don't want you to go. I – " She started, but Peeta cut her off.

He had leaned down quickly and captured her lips in his. The kiss was warm and sweet and Katniss kissed him back tenderly. After a few moments, Peeta pulled away slowly, his breath warm in the space between them.

"I love you, Katniss. And it'll only be a few days," he was saying. She was still a bit breathless from her confession and from the kiss and she was suddenly glad that his arms were around her waist, supporting her.

"I'll come back. I promise." He said and she wanted to believe him, so she tried to bury the nagging fear at the back of her mind.

She knew that with a head injury that serious, it was best looked at by a professional. She could remember her mother seeing folks who had fallen and hit their heads on slippery ice or in a mining accident and how they would be lucid and talking one minute, then comatose and deteriorating hours later. Bleeding in the brain, her mother would tell the distraught family members and shake her head sadly. If Peeta were on a train to the Capitol that night, then at least he could stop off in a district with a large medical facility if he got worse along the way. She exhaled slowly, and shut her eyes again, reveling in the feel of his arms around her.

He leaned back down and ghosted kisses across her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, her forehead. She could have smiled, but instead she pressed her lips back to his.

"Help me pack," he mouthed against her lips a few moments later, and she didn't want to let go of him. She did eventually, and led him upstairs, her hand clasped tightly in his.

Katniss made him sit on the edge of the bed while she dug around in the back of her closet for a small suitcase. He watched her, a half-smile playing on his lips, as she carefully folded his pants and shirts and sweaters and placed them into the open luggage. He offered to help, but she silenced him with a determined look. She felt a blush creep up the back of her neck when she opened the drawer that contained his underwear, but she shook her head and grabbed a handful of the garments. She left him sitting on the bed and went into the bathroom, grabbing up his toothbrush and a few jars of the medicated creams.

"What train are you on?" She asked as she neatly placed his toiletries into the suitcase. She didn't look up at him when he replied.

"The three o'clock, I think." He said, watching her. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized she would have to take him directly to the train station in a few short moments.

"Do you want to change before we go?" Katniss asked, looking up at him. His work clothes still had flour clinging to them and the collar of his shirt was brown with dried blood.

Peeta nodded and grabbed a fresh shirt and pants, heading to the bathroom. Once he closed the door behind him, Katniss fell forward, gripping her knees. It felt as if the whole world was crashing down around her, and she didn't know if she could bear it. She sucked in a few ragged breaths and willed herself not to cry. Peeta needed to be checked out by doctors, she told herself. She shouldn't be so selfish to want him to stay, especially when he might need their expertise. She had ignored him for months after the games, had survived without him in District Thirteen, so a few days should be nothing. As much as she tried to tell herself that, she could only think of what a fool she had been to ignore him before. How desperate she had been in Thirteen and how she had clung to the pearl as a sign of hope. Maybe the pearl could help her now, she thought. Maybe.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Peeta came back into the bedroom. Katniss stood quickly, not wanting him to see her upset at his leaving. He eyed her for a second and closed the distance between them, wrapping her in his arms. She let out a few whimpering sobs, then, and he whispered comforting words as he stroked her back. She felt foolish, and helpless crying like that. He was the one who had been injured, yet here he was comforting her. She clung to the fabric of his shirt, not wanting to let go. She pulled away reluctantly, though, when she knew they had to leave for the station.

They walked silently toward town, hand in hand. Katniss had refused to let him carry his own suitcase and she let the weight of it on her arm hold her to the earth. He walked more slowly than usual, gingerly rubbing the back of his head every-so-often. When they finally made it to the train, they had but a few minutes to spare. Katniss let Peeta go to the window to pick up his ticket as a lone porter gathered up the small suitcase. She tried not to think about the other times she had been whisked aboard a train, her whole life tumbling upside down. He joined her back on the platform, a look of something she couldn't quite place on his face.

She wanted to tell him that she couldn't live without him. She wanted to tell him that even if it were just a few days, that she would miss him every moment. She wanted to ask him who was supposed to hold her after a nightmare if he wasn't there. She wanted to tell him that he had saved her. That she had bloomed from something frightened and scarred to something strong and beautiful under his care. And he had bloomed too. He was her dandelion in the sun.

"I love you." She said, the words no longer feeling foreign on her tongue. "Please come back," she added, her voice threatening to break.

"I'll come back, I promise," he said and bent down to kiss her.

She pulled him closer and kissed him back, not caring who was watching. She broke off the kiss when she heard the last call for passengers. Her hands were still gripping his arms, though, and she didn't want to let go. How fast had the past few hours gone? It was as if time had sped up and she truly was stuck in some nightmare. She watched as he boarded the train, the pained look on his face akin to the one years ago, when they had boarded the train to the games.

Her heart ached as she walked back to the Victor's Village that afternoon. Even though he spent most of his days in town away from her, his absence that day was tangible. She didn't want to crawl into her bed alone or eat dinner alone. No matter how few days he was gone, it would be too long. She found the telephone where she had left it on the kitchen counter and carried it back toward the couch. She dialed the number to her mother, not wanting to be left alone in the silence of her empty house.

"Katniss, what's wrong?" Her mother asked as soon as she heard her daughter's tone.

"It's Peeta," Katniss replied, her voice revealing her heartache. "He has to go back to the Capitol."

Katniss's mother asked a few hurried questions, then when her daughter had explained the situation and the older woman had a better grasp on it, she let Katniss talk uninterrupted. She reassured Katniss about the doctors and the medical expertise of the Capitol. Katniss felt slightly less upset when she finally said goodbye to her mother, her stomach no longer threatening to lurch. But she felt hollow inside and knew the feeling wouldn't go away until Peeta returned.

That night Greasy Sae came through the backdoor followed closely by Haymitch, who appeared more sober than usual. He asked after Peeta and Katniss answered in short, clipped sentences until it was too much and she pushed away from the table and her half-eaten food. She curled up on the couch and dozed off to the sound of Greasy Sae cleaning up the kitchen. She woke in the middle of the night, the chill seeping into her bones. She longed to have his arms curled around her, to hear his voice. He had promised to call her when he reached the Capitol, but she knew that would take a day. She pulled an old quilt down off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her for warmth.

She stared at the empty hearth, the fire having died without Peeta there to tend it.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:** Another chapter, yay! Don't worry, Katniss isn't going to be too depressed with Peeta's absence, but you'll see! Hopefully you all enjoy this chapter and it's not too much of a downer without Peeta. Again, feedback is always welcome and quite appreciated! Thanks!

* * *

Katniss woke to the sound of Greasy Sae in her kitchen and the smell of bacon cooking over the stove. It was as if all those months had simply been a dream and now she was waking back up to a day when she had first been banished to District Twelve. She reluctantly crawled out from under the quilt and realized she was still wearing her hunting clothes from the day before. The day that Peeta had left.

It all rushed back to her in one sharp memory. Peeta smiling there on the couch, dried blood in his hair. Her phone call to Dr. Aurelius. Taking Peeta to the train station and then calling her mother. She wondered what district Peeta's train was speeding through now and if he was looking out the window or not. Knowing him, he was enjoying as much of the scenery as he could. Katniss suddenly felt as if she had shackles around her, not being able to leave District Twelve. It was a cruel punishment and for a moment she panicked and imagined that the doctors at the Capitol wanted Peeta for some other inhumane experiment, and that they would never let him return. She wanted to hear his voice, to know that he was safe.

Greasy Sae frowned and tutted at the sight of Katniss, her messy clothes and unkempt hair. Katniss took up her usual perch on a kitchen stool, but her movements lacked any sort of energy. Greasy Sae filled a plate with strips of bacon, some eggs, and a few pieces of toast.

"He's going to be fine, you know." The older woman said as she handed Katniss the plate of food. She glanced up at the older woman and saw a look of understanding on her face.

Katniss picked at her food, and once Greasy Sae had left, dumped the rest in the trash and headed upstairs. She slid out of her hunting clothes and climbed into the shower, not because she wanted to, but because she knew she needed to, at least for Peeta's sake. She remembered the look he had given her months ago when he planted the evening primrose bushes outside of her house. She must have looked a fright, her hair wild and dark circles under her eyes and musty clothes. He had worried about her even then, she realized, and it hurt all the more that he was gone. She climbed out of the shower and found the salve – the one that smelled like baked sugar – that they had used only a week ago and she felt the stinging pain of tears in her eyes. She should have told him that she loved him then, not when he had to leave. What if she never saw him again? She tried, unsuccessfully, to push that thought out of her mind.

She pulled clothes out of her closet without any particular thought to what she was grabbing. The bed was still unmade from the day before, and if she looked hard enough, she could see the perfect outline of where Peeta had lay. She pulled on a pair of woolen trousers but had to find a different shirt when she realized the one she had grabbed thoughtlessly was too thin for the chilly weather. She pulled on a thick sweater, goose bumps having risen on her bare arms. Her entire house was cold without him. She eyed the space heater near her bed, but she left it there, where he had plugged it in.

She was in no mood to hunt, and part of her was afraid that if she ventured out into the wilderness she would be called back for something even worse than a bump on the head. Or she might miss his call. So she made herself a nest on the couch, curling her legs under her and pulling the quilt around her. Charred logs stood in the fireplace, but Katniss refused to light the fire. Before, it had been out of fear. Now she wasn't sure she wanted to enjoy her house without him in it. She could have taken down the book of memories from its perch on the bookshelf, but she was worried that she might become completely engulfed in her sorrow. It had been difficult enough to stay afloat when she had first moved back, and she had not done a very good job of leading any sort of life. Not until the day she heard the shovel scraping the ground outside her house. Not until she saw him, and what he had planted for her. That had been enough to bring her out of her sorrow, albeit slowly. She remembered with a pang being scared to face him, hiding away in her house for weeks until her curiosity got the best of her. Things had been tenuous at first, but somehow the pieces of their lives had fallen into place, becoming enmeshed almost seamlessly. Katniss did not want to think of a life, or a future without him.

Her stomach was rumbling when she awoke from a fitful sleep. It was a cloudy, to suit her mood, and she figured it was about midday. She had been dreaming that they were back in the games, the mutts with eyes like the other Tributes chasing them. That had been a common nightmare after the games, and it still came back to haunt her on some nights. Peeta, with his injured leg, wasn't fast enough, though, and didn't make it to the Cornucopia in time. She watched in shock as the mutts tore him limb from limb while he screamed. She shook the nightmare from her head and abandoned the quilt, afraid to fall asleep and dream up something even more heinous.

Katniss was strolling down the lane in the Victor's Village before she knew it. It was a short walk to Haymitch's house, the geese eyeing her warily from one side of his yard. She knocked loudly on his door before she could stop herself, and when there was no reply, she forced the door open and stepped inside. Luckily, with all of the cool weather of fall, the normal putrid stenches that filled his grimy house were only mildly irritating. Katniss silently wished her former mentor would hire a housekeeper until it conjured up images of Hazelle, and of course Gale. She almost swore as she nearly tripped over a pile of dirty clothes. Only it moved, and it wasn't a pile of dirty clothes at all, but Haymitch. He rolled over and let out a frightening belch, an empty bottle clutched in his hand. Katniss bent down and pried it from his fingers and thought about hitting him over the head with it until she thought of Peeta's injury. Haymitch let out a groan and managed to get to his feet with Katniss's help. He arched his back to stretch and gave her a look from bloodshot eyes.

"So, he's gone sweetheart?" Haymitch asked a few minutes later.

He had procured another bottle of the clear liquor from a cabinet and they were sitting at his kitchen table. Haymitch had instructed her to get two mugs, and he filled them both half-full with the liquid. Katniss hadn't touched hers though, remembering how sick she had become drinking over a year ago when she found out the news about the Quarter Quell. Haymitch eyed her, then took her mug for himself. Katniss explained the fall at the bakery and the subsequent head injury as her former mentor gulped down the alcohol.

"Well, did you at least tell him you loved him before he left?" Haymitch asked and smirked at the surprised look on Katniss's face. She hung her head, but answered matter-of-factly.

"Yes," she said softly. Haymitch sputtered and choked on the fiery liquid. Katniss then realized his question had been half in jest.

"Well then," Haymitch said with a look of approval once he had composed himself. "You two _are_ growing up."

They sat in amicable silence for some time in the dim light of Haymitch's kitchen. Katniss realized that it was the first time since she had been back that she had tolerated the older man without either one of them scowling or erupting into yells. She almost smiled to herself, but the ache in her chest was too raw.

"He'll come back," Haymitch said, his tone surprisingly gentle. He was staring at his mug, and Katniss suddenly thought of all the people they knew who hadn't ever come back.

"If there's one thing about that boy," he continued. "He's stronger than anyone ever realized."

Katniss could remember the sixteen-year-old boy she met on Reaping Day, his face red from crying. She could remember how he had been so resigned, so determined that Katniss would be the victor. How she had argued for him, how she had known he was physically strong from lifting hundred-pound bags of flour. What she hadn't bet on were his other strengths. His affability, his way with words, his easy smiles and genuine laughter. His mental resolve and fierce loyalty. And his love for her, a girl he barely knew. How much precious time with him had she wasted? She had ignored him after the games, unwilling to admit her feelings for him. And there had been Gale. Dark, handsome, stubborn Gale who was too much like her, with his light teasing and deep looks and a fire that burned inside. It was true, they could have made a life together had things worked out differently. But Katniss had been thrust into the violent machinations of the Capitol, and then District Thirteen, and her whole world had been thrown off balance. She had regained her sense of gravity in Peeta. Not Gale, who would have tipped the scales further.

"You know," Katniss said, pulling herself out of her own thoughts. "You really need a housekeeper."

Haymitch gave her a look and took a long swig from his mug as she pushed herself up and made her way back out his front door, the geese honking defensively toward her.

The phone rang a few hours later, and Katniss, perched on the couch, grabbed it up before it even rang a second time.

"Hey," the sound of his voice immediately calmed her, and she returned his greeting softly.

"I just got to the Capitol and they are about to take me to the medic facility." Peeta continued. "I…I just wanted you to know I made it here safely."

_I love you_. Those three words hung between them, but neither had to say them.

"Thanks," Katniss replied, hearing noises and voices in the background of the call.

"I've got to go. I'll call you later, ok?" Peeta was saying and then Katniss heard a voice she didn't recognize calling for him. The call clicked off and Katniss set down the phone slowly.

She sat on the couch for a few minutes before she suddenly remembered the pearl, and the setting Carol Ann had promised her. It had been a week since Katniss had helped plant the winter wheat, and a week since she had met with the older woman. With resolve, Katniss marched up her stairs and to the jewelry box that sat atop her dresser. She opened the little drawer that housed the pearl and there it sat, gleaming perfectly back up at her. Instead of stuffing it in her pocket – as she had done in Thirteen – she found a small cloth bag with a drawstring that was housing some bauble from the Capitol. She dumped out the other piece of jewelry and dropped the pearl in, cinching the strings of the bag tight.

She threw on her father's hunting jacket and trudged out the back door, catching sight of Peeta's empty, dark house behind her. He essentially lived with her now, his clothes taking up more and more closet space each week, his art projects filling the study and overflowing into the living room. Perhaps he would think about moving _all_ of his things over once he returned and let some family move into the empty house, she thought.

It was late in the afternoon by the time Katniss made it past the square and down the lane toward the wheat field. People were out everywhere. More people than she would have liked to run across, so she ducked her head and avoided them, for the most part. Some gave her sympathetic looks. She was sure Peeta's accident and subsequent departure was the subject of rampant gossiping. The people of the district needed _something_ to talk about, she mused. Last week it had been the field of wheat. The week before that, it had been the elections and their results – including that Bim Praydor had been voted to the town council even though he used to get drunk and beat his wife until she left him for some man in District Thirteen. The week before that, it had been the Harvest Festival and rumors that Greasy Sae – or Old Sae as some called her, or just Sae as she was called to her face – was going to open up her own restaurant. Katniss tried to stay out of the rumor mill, but Peeta couldn't escape it between Marc and Anabel, and so he would bring home particularly outlandish bits of gossip to laugh about.

Katniss didn't miss the stares or whispers that followed her across town, and she was sure some ridiculous story was already brewing about Peeta's swift departure. Without the heavy Peacekeeper presence – or any Peacekeeper presence really – people's tongues were looser. She prayed silently that she wouldn't run into Anabel and have to explain herself. Greasy Sae could keep a secret, though. She didn't even want to think about running into Leevy and what awkward small talk would ensue. She hurried around the edge of town, weaving through deserted lanes and toward the field. She recognized the small house with the wooden fence from the week before, hoping that the older woman was home.

Carol Ann welcomed Katniss with a smile and an offer of tea, and that day Katniss accepted the delicate teacup with steam wafting from it.

"Let's see what I have to work with," the older woman smiled expectantly.

Katniss set her teacup back in its saucer on a small end table and pulled the tiny cloth bag from her pocket. Carol Ann took it carefully from her and dumped the contents into her palm.

"Beautiful…" Carol Ann said. She had grabbed a pair of glasses from a shelf and was holding the pearl inches from her face, the lenses reflecting its opalescent light.

The older woman muttered a bit to herself as she worked. Katniss drank the dark, bitter tea not because she wanted to, but to keep herself occupied. Carol Ann dug around in a few drawers, finally pulling out a bit of curved wire, a silver chain, and a small drill. It was almost comical to see the older lady crouched down over a workbench, the pearl clamped gently in a vise, and using the power tool to place the setting. The sound of the drill startled Katniss at first, but it did not take long for Carol Ann to finish. Katniss was relieved that she had not attempted to make small talk.

"Ahhh…" Carol Ann said finally in a self-satisfied tone. "Here you go." She held up the chain with the pearl now swinging from it and handed it to Katniss.

Katniss held the chain and pearl in her hand, watching as its color changed minutely in the shifting light. She unhooked the chain and fastened it around her neck before Carol Ann had time to offer her help. She felt the chain glide across her collarbones and the weight of the pearl resting on her chest as she tucked it under her shirt. She thanked Carol Ann, dropped a bag of coins on the end table near her half-empty teacup, and left through the front door before the older woman had time to protest over being paid.

It was dark by the time Katniss walked through her back door and into the brightly lit kitchen. Greasy Sae's granddaughter greeted her with a wide grin and then turned back to the scribbles she was making with a pen on a piece of scrap paper. Greasy Sae fussed at the young girl and warned her not to get ink everywhere. Katniss could have told her she didn't care, let the girl have fun, but instead she silently took up her perch on the kitchen stool as Greasy Sae gave her a long look. The older woman turned back to her cooking and Katniss rested her chin in one hand, the weight of the pearl beneath her shirt anchoring her to the ground. She was thinking of how thankful she was for the quiet when Haymitch burst through the kitchen door. Greasy Sae gave him a long, hard look and nearly burnt the biscuits. Katniss climbed down from her stool and joined her former mentor as he loudly pulled out a chair from the table.

"So lover boy's been all over the news this evening," Haymitch announced and Katniss froze.

Of course there would be news coverage of a recent victor heading back to the Capitol for medical treatment. And especially since that victor happened to be Peeta. Katniss supposed she had thought his trip would be a quiet affair. That he would go back and the doctors would run their tests and scans and then he would come back without the general public being alerted. She had obviously been wrong, and her heart ached to think of the swarms of reporters and cameramen following him, trying to interview him and the doctors. But it _was_ Peeta, with his bright smiles and easy charm. Perhaps he wanted to do the interviews, to assure everyone that the old government of the Capitol had not broken him.

"Kid does good in front of the cameras," Haymitch was saying between mouthfuls of food. "They were asking him a lot of questions about you," he pointed the hand that held his biscuit toward Katniss and her breath caught in her throat.

Of course they would ask Peeta about her, about the Mockingjay. Their relationship – real or not real – had played such an integral part of the games and the Quarter Quell that it was only natural to ask about his other half. As much as her stomach lurched to think of being in the Capitol again or being in front of the camera, she could have smiled at the thought that she _was_ his other half now. Whatever was between them, and she knew it included love, it was not pretend.

"What did he say?" Katniss couldn't help but ask as she moved her peas around on her plate.

"About you?" Haymitch eyed her, "Not much. Just kind of brushed those questions off with a smile and talked about the rebuilding of the district."

Katniss's stomach lurched again and she didn't know if it was from relief that Peeta wasn't speaking openly about her or from disappointment that he wasn't speaking openly about her.

It was late when the phone rang, and Katniss nearly jumped off the couch where she had fallen asleep to answer it. Buttercup hissed at her for disturbing his sleep on the back of the couch, then hopped down and took up residence on one of the armchairs. Peeta's familiar voice sounded on the other end of the line and Katniss breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sorry I called so late," he said, his tone apologetic but upbeat. "The first round of testing is over." He continued. "They are going to run a few more tests in the morning, but if everything comes back normal they are going to keep me for a day for observation and then send me home after that."

_Home_. Yes, this was his home, here with her. She held the phone closer to her ear, imaging that Peeta was sitting beside her, talking, instead of being a thousand miles away. Her other hand dug inside the neck of her shirt and found the pearl. The smoothness of it in her fingers was comforting. Peeta coming home. It couldn't happen fast enough, but she was glad there was a timeframe. She prayed silently that the tests and scans would all be normal – whatever that meant.

"I heard you were on the news," she told him. She had refused to let Haymitch turn on her television after dinner and so he had stormed off out the kitchen door in a flurry of curses.

"Yeah…" Peeta said almost regretfully. "They followed me around and pestered me until I let them film some stuff." He was saying. "So I let them film me during a few of the tests – but not all," he quickly added. "They are supposed to leave me alone now, under Dr. Aurelius's strict orders."

Katniss had a feeling Peeta would be lucky if he got out of the Capitol without being coerced into doing at least one more interview. They didn't speak for long, and when she hung up the phone she felt a sense of relief that almost masked the hollow ache in her heart.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N****: ** In this chapter, Peeta returns and certain questions are answered. I really, really enjoyed writing this chapter. Everything just fit into place and...well, you'll see! Your feedback is MUCH appreciated. Thank you, thank you, thank you to those who have so diligently responded!

* * *

Peeta was coming home. Katniss could have sang, she was so elated, but she kept her emotions in check. Until she actually saw him, until he was actually physically present, she wouldn't be fully happy.

He had called the night before, telling her he was boarding a train. He had been the Capitol for two days – one for testing and one for observation. His test results had all come back normal and his brain scans showed no lasting damage from his head injury, so the doctors in the Capitol were releasing him. Katniss had hung up the phone almost afraid she had dreamt his call, but a call to Dr. Aurelius, in which she begrudgingly apologized for hanging up on him so abruptly days before, confirmed that Peeta was indeed coming home.

The days he had been gone had been tough, but not the toughest days Katniss had had to endure. She wasn't stuck in the games or the Quarter Quell. She wasn't leading a rebellion into the heart of the Capitol. She was merely missing Peeta. But compared to how her life had been for the past eight or nine months, it was a huge hurdle to face.

"I miss you…" She had told him softly, intimately on the phone the night before, as their conversation had come to a close. She could almost hear him smile on the other end of the line.

She had spent the past two days back in the woods, no longer frightened that she would get called back for some tragedy. Once Haymitch had told her Peeta had been on the news, she avoided town and its inhabitants as if they had contracted some sort of plague. Greasy Sae had resumed her cooking and cleaning duties each morning and night that Peeta was away, and the older woman did not have to say a word for Katniss to know what the whole town was talking about. Perhaps showing Peeta having the tests done would curtail some of the more outlandish rumors, though.

With the day of his return at hand, curiosity got the best of Katniss and she headed toward the bakery mid-morning. Even though both Peeta and Dr. Aurelius had assured her that the tests and scans had been normal, there was still a question nagging in the back of her mind. What had Marc meant when he said that Peeta had been saying "stuff that didn't make sense?" And why had Greasy Sae given him one of her looks? Katniss's footsteps on the hard-packed earth drummed in time with her heartbeat, the pearl bouncing against her chest as she made her way toward the town square. The leaves had lost their vivid autumn colors and were now a dull brown. The sky was gray and the air smelled of snow. Katniss knew the first snowfall of the year was not far away. It should be sunny for Peeta's return, but cloudy skies would have to do. She was glad he would be there to light the fire in her hearth once more.

She hugged her arms around her, the feel of the worn leather of her father's hunting jacket comforting, but not able to entirely block out the chill in the air. She remembered with a pang the thick winter clothes that Cinna had given her and wondered what ever happened to them. They had most likely been tucked away somewhere either by her mother or Greasy Sae. She set her jaw and tried not to think about the last time she had seen Cinna, his unconscious body being dragged out of the room by a set of Peacekeepers. She set a brisk pace toward the bakery, the din of a dog barking somewhere behind her.

Marc was standing behind the counter while Theo manned the ovens and Edda straightened up the shelves. Marc greeted Katniss when he caught sight of her and Theo gave her a quick nod as he placed a tray of cookies on the cooling racks. Edda welcomed Katniss with her slow drawl and Katniss afforded her a smile. The bakery was empty of customers at that very moment, and Katniss was grateful. She leaned against the display counter and caught Marc's eye again.

_Can we talk?_ She would have said had she any confidence in her social skills. Instead, the look she gave him, her gray eyes narrowed, her mouth cutting a straight line across her face, spoke enough and Marc called for Edda to man the cash register. Katniss stepped out of the bakery and back into the chill of the day, Marc following closely behind. She led him to the corner of the building that was near an open lane, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Katniss, I…I didn't mean to – " Marc was saying, but she cut him off.

"What did he say, Marc?" She said, her tone steely. "What did he say?" He let out a long sigh and stared at his shoes, his breath ghosting around him.

"He was saying something about a locket, then a pearl…" Marc said, kicking the dirt around with one foot. "He kept asking about a pearl."

"Oh," Katniss let out in a surprised tone. Whatever she had been afraid of, whatever terrible things she had imagined him saying, imagined him accusing her of, she had not imagined him simply asking about the pearl. Or perhaps it wasn't so simple after all.

"And that's all?" Katniss asked, watching Marc's face. The tension that had been tangible in the air between them had slowly dissipated and he finally looked up from his feet.

"That's all I heard, I swear." She knew Marc – from all Peeta had told her – was not one to lie. She took a deep breath and the cold air filled her lungs. She suddenly remembered that the pearl hung around her neck and for a moment she panicked and thought that the chain had come loose. Her fingers went to her chest and she felt relief when the round stone pressed back underneath her shirt.

_Sorry about dragging you out here_, she wanted to tell him. She knew from video clips and from the photos she had seen from the Victory Tour that her scowls could be intense. Instead she stared at the dark earth for a moment in contemplation, then met his eyes and nodded. Marc had crossed his arms against the cold and relaxed a little, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Katniss turned on her heels and returned to the warmth of the bakery, Marc following closely behind. Theo and Edda pretended to be busy instead of watching the two re-enter.

"Thanks," she managed softly as Marc slipped behind the counter. He gave her a half smile, then turned his gaze back to the cash register as he fiddled with its buttons.

"I saw Peeta on tv the other night," Edda spoke up just as Katniss was about to leave. She met Edda's gaze and if anyone else would have mentioned it, she would have scowled. But something about Edda's soft voice and unassuming manner made Katniss force a smile.

_They asked him about me, didn't they?_ She wanted to ask, but instead just let out an inquiring "oh."

"They did a piece on the new medical facilities in the Capitol. Peeta was their guide." Theo was saying from near the ovens. "Peeta sure knows his stuff."

And Katniss could imagine Peeta leading around some camera crew that had badgered him into doing a segment, showing them the buildings, brushing off personal questions with smiling grace. She knew he had spent much of his time post-rebellion recovering under Dr. Aurelius's care, and so maybe he owed the doctor as much. The Peeta she had come to love in District Twelve was not the Peeta from before. No, the Peeta she loved was almost a better version of himself, having gone through so much – the games, the quell, the torture and brainwashing – and having returned still capable of loving – and forgiving – her.

"He'll be back tonight," Katniss heard herself saying, unable to repress the smile that cut across her face.

Marc and Theo and Edda all expressed their slight surprise, then their satisfaction on his return and Katniss left the bakery with a box full of cookies from Edda and a grin on her face.

She couldn't help eating a few of the cookies as she walked back toward the Victor's Village. They were shaped like leaves and frosted the vibrant reds and golds and oranges of fall. Orange. Peeta's favorite color. She was sad that the autumn plumage had not stayed long and had already faded to the dull brown of the dead leaves that crunched beneath her boots. The trees were bare, except for the evergreens, and she knew winter was on her heels. She ate another cookie and imagined the quiet of the forest in a bed of freshly laid snow. She knew game would be harder to find in the cold winter months, but that was of no concern. Of course she and Peeta both enjoyed Greasy Sae's gamier dishes, but chicken or beef or ham was still sustenance, and more than she could have ever dreamed of just a few short years ago.

She rested the box of cookies – or at least what remained of the cookies – on the kitchen counter. Buttercup had been perched on her stool, but stood and stretched before marching across the counter to sniff the edge of the box. Katniss once would have scolded him and swatted him off of the counter, but instead she scratched between his stubby ears before heading to the couch. It took much of her resolve to not turn on the television and search for any glimpse of Peeta. She longed to hear his voice, his laugh. To see his impossibly blue eyes and the way his blond hair fell over his forehead. To see him smile the way he only smiled for her. To have his strong arms wrap around her once more and to feel his warm, soft lips against hers. She felt a slow blush creep up her neck when she thought about him, and a certain warmth spread from her core to every limb when she thought about kissing him. It was not an unwelcome feeling, though, especially in her cold house.

She counted off the hours until his train arrived. She usually was not one to go by a certain set time, especially since her return to the district, but she found the old clock in the corner of the living room comforting in its steady ticking, as well as infuriating in its hopelessly slow movement. How could she spend hours crouching in a tree, waiting on prey when it seemed as if a lifetime were passing until she would see him again? Seven o'clock. That's when he train came in. Seven o'clock. She watched the second hand on the clock. She rubbed the smoothness of the pearl between her fingers. She laced and unlaced her boots. She picked at her braid, contemplating whether or not to re-plait it. At two hours 'til, she climbed the stairs and took a hot shower, her skin burning as she stood firm under the blast of water for too long. She spent a significant amount of time towel-drying her hair for the cold walk to the station. She caught glimpses of herself as the steam-fogged mirror cleared. The girl that stared back at her was so different than the girl who had first been sent back to the district with unkempt hair and dark circles under her eyes and little life left in her eyes. True, she had lost some weight in the past few weeks debating whether she should reveal her feelings to Peeta and how he might react, but her dark hair shone and the circles were all but gone and her eyes sparkled with hope and purpose. She was scarred, but in the blurriness of the mirror, she could almost see past that.

She walked – no, she floated – to the station a short while later. Her quick pace was no match for the drumming of her heart in her chest, and she tried to take a few deep breaths to calm herself down. The crisp, cool air numbed her cheeks and made her speed up her pace even more. Peeta was coming home. Darkness had already fallen around the town, but newly installed streetlamps lit her way to the station. She took up a spot on a wooden bench, almost too excited to sit. She would have paced back and forth on the platform until he arrived, but she was already gaining looks from others waiting on the same train. She remembered with a pang the train ride home from the games, the harsh words spoken, the denial of her feelings for him. It seemed a lifetime ago that she had stepped off that train and into a world of uncertainty.

Before long, but too long by her heart's estimate, the lights of the train could be seen in the distance. The platform rumbled as the speeding train approached, then slowed. Katniss swallowed hard, her fears getting the better of her for a moment. What if he _wasn't_ on this train? What if the doctors in the Capitol had decided to keep him there? What if he stopped off in a district along the way and was left?

She felt foolish for her thoughts when she finally saw him step carefully off the train, but it was overridden by sheer joy. He scanned the station for her, but she was already moving, dodging others who were climbing down off the train. He saw her a few yards off and his face broke out into a brilliant smile. She wrapped her arms around his neck and suddenly she _was_ floating, her feet not touching the ground. She realized quickly that his warm hands were on her waist and his strong arms were lifting her up. He spun her around, his feet more sure of themselves than when he had tried the same move nearly two years ago. When they had fallen together in the snow, laughing, as an act in front of the cameras.

Her feelings for him now were no act, and she slid down the length of his body as he set her down, their eyes locked. Their lips met briefly, almost shyly, and then her head was pressed into his chest.

"I missed you," she breathed. He still smelled of cinnamon even though he had been absent from the bakery.

"Me too," he answered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. That's when Katniss noticed the porter eyeing them almost reluctantly, Peeta's suitcase in his hands.

Peeta grabbed the suitcase even as Katniss protested, and she took full measure of him. The bandage on his head was gone and his blond hair was falling across his forehead. His eyes were bright and a reassuring smile played on his lips, though it seemed as if he were holding something back. Her stomach lurched as they walked back toward the Victor's Village hand in hand. What if the results _weren't_ all normal? Was her phone still tapped and that's why he had been vague during their calls? She wouldn't put it past the new government to keep a close eye on her. She _was_ mentally unhinged after all. That, or a dangerous assassin.

She watched Peeta's features the rest of the way home as he told her about the tests and the filming and the changes in the Capitol. He was on the topic of the change in the trend of body modification when they reached her back step, and she thought of all those months ago, standing and making small talk with him in the space between their houses. She wanted to tell him that he should just move in, officially, and abandon the darkened, empty house next door. But that conversation could wait, and so she led him into her house, their fingers laced together.

Peeta admonished her gently over the empty hearth and the chill of the house. She just shook her head at him as she entered the kitchen and pulled some of Greasy Sae's leftovers out to reheat. She turned her gaze back to the living room and watched as he threw a few logs into the fireplace and lit a match, coaxing the rising flames as if he were some god of fire. No, not the god of fire. He was the sun god, and she smiled to herself as she checked on the food.

They sat crossed-legged in front of the fire to eat, her left knee pressed up against his right. The smell of the food had suddenly made her hungry, and so she wolfed down her dinner happily. Once they were done, Peeta made her stay seated while he took their plates and silverware to be washed. Katniss turned to watch him, her view partially obstructed by the couch, and prayed that she wouldn't hear the crash of dishes and have to manage one of his flashbacks. He returned a few minutes later, though, smiling, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He scooped her up off the floor and onto the couch, where she sat curled in his arms.

"The brain scans look even better than before," he was saying, the warmth of his arms and fire tempting her to doze. "The patterns are more 'normal,' the doctors said. So maybe the hija – maybe what the Capitol did wasn't permanent after all…" his voice trailed off and she didn't know if it was because he was finished speaking or if she had fallen asleep.

She awoke suddenly a short while later, her head cradled in his lap. The television was on, and the loud noises emanating from it had woken her. The images from the bright screen were reflected in his face, his eyes transfixed by the scene. She sat up and he blinked, pulling his gaze away from the television to look at her.

"Don't…" She said, seeing the pained expression on his face. "Let's go to bed,"

She stood and the quilt he had draped over her slid to the ground. He shut the television off and took some time to snuff out the fire, the hard lines across his features melting into a smile. He stood, letting her lead him up the stairs, her hand around his. She changed into her nightgown while he was in the bathroom, a slow blush creeping up her neck despite the chill. They traded spots and she brushed her teeth slowly, her heart drumming in her throat at what lay between them.

The lights were off and the space heater was on when she returned to her bedroom. It took her a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness, but once they did, she could see that he was sitting up on the edge of the bed, waiting for her. The fire inside her grew, and in a set of swift movements she was standing over him, cupping his face in her hands. Their lips met, gently at first, as his hands settled on her waist. His warmth seeped through her thin nightgown and she suddenly wanted to feel his hands on her bare skin. Their kiss intensified, and as if he read her mind, he pulled at the fabric of her gown until he was able to slip the entire garment up over her head, her arms reaching toward the sky to help him. He stared at her bare skin for a moment, his eyes suddenly wide in the dark, and then his mouth found her neck and he left a trail of kissed down her throat to her collarbone. She felt his mouth make contact with the metal chain, pressing it into her skin, and he paused, pulling back. The pearl swung between them on its chain, and Peeta reached up one hand to gently cup the stone.

"The pearl…" He whispered, still holding the perfect, round stone in his grasp.

"You like it…?" She asked, willing her teeth not to chatter now that she was fully exposed to the cold.

Peeta nodded and a wide grin broke out on his face. He leaned forward, ghosting kisses on the skin of her chest where the pearl rested. She shivered then and laughed, and he pulled her down atop him, covering them both with the quilt from her bed, trapping their warmth in a manmade cocoon.

A long while later they lay side-by-side, Peeta alternating between stroking the pearl and pushing dark strands of her hair behind her ear. She wanted to rest her head on his bare shoulder and drift off to sleep, but something in his blue eyes kept her from closing hers.

"Before I left," he spoke finally, his hand resting on the crook of her jaw, "things were a little muddled. From the head injury," he added quickly. He paused then, but she remained silent.

"I just want to make sure I wasn't imaging it..." He said softly. He locked his eyes with hers before he spoke again.

"You love me, real or not real?"

"Real," she answered without hesitation and closed the distance between them. Sleep could wait just a little while longer.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:** Ok, to clear up a few things (and I apologize for any confusion I may have caused):

1. Yes, Katniss and Peeta did *ahem* get to know each other in the Biblical sense in the previous chapter. And it was the first time. I would say that scene could be interpreted however one wanted to, but them some of the things in this chapter would make absolutely NO sense. I'm sorry if things weren't more clear in the previous chapter, I just didn't want this to turn into an M-rated HG smut fanfic.

2. Peeta's television appearance - more on that in this chapter, so read up

3. And I apologize for the typos and such in ch. 22. I had edited the whole thing, then my Internet fritzed before I could hit "save" and I had to go back through the whole document and edit again, and so I missed some errors.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! And if I still haven't cleared something up, feel free to comment or PM me. Thank you SO much for the outpouring of reviews and comments. Your feedback is amazing. Enjoy!

* * *

Katniss chewed the bitter seeds intently, carefully swallowing the mouthful, then loosened the hard kernels from her teeth with her tongue. She was thankful that her mother had been a healer and so there was a cabinet full of herbal remedies, tinctures, and a few precious bottles of pills in her house. Katniss could remember the young women of the Seam visiting her mother even before she could have guessed what it had been about. Once Katniss had gotten older, and better at sneaking quietly to the door or window when her mother gently nudged her outside, she had started to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She remembered when at eight her mother had caught her spying as she talked with a young wife, and Katniss's father had taken her into the woods a few days later to explain how babies came to be. Katniss had given her father a knowing glance – she had seen plenty of animals, both in the wild and in town, mate. What had taken her a while to understand was that sometimes women did not want to have children, and so they came to her mother seeking a way to prevent babies coming into the world.

After her father had been killed, though, and the joys of her childhood lost to cold and hunger and desperation, that's when she came to fully grasp the nature of the world. Children went hungry more often than not in the Seam. Many succumbed to exposure or illnesses. And when – or if – they did grow up, there was Reaping Day. Every year a boy and a girl in the pinnacle of their youth were taken from the district to be murdered in front of an audience. And so Katniss, at the ripe old age of eleven, had vowed to never bring children into such a cruel world. She hardly ever brought up the subject around her mother, or Prim. It had only really come up a few times with Gale, who had surprised her at first with admitting that he did want a family. She had completely shut out the idea of ever getting married or having a family when Prim's name had been reaped and she had volunteered. Her sole goal from the time her father had been killed until that fateful Reaping Day had been to provide for and to secure Prim's future.

Now, with Prim gone, what cruel fate would allow her to bear children who would never know their aunt? And on Peeta's side, would never know their grandparents or uncles? Of course it really wasn't "never." Not now that there was the book of memories. Still, at the age of eighteen, she was not prepared to take care of anyone but herself. Or Peeta – though she smiled to think he was more than capable of taking care of himself.

So she chewed the seeds as her mother had instructed countless women over the years, and prayed they worked. She knew she would have to eat a small mouthful of the seeds the next day, and the day after that, to insure she wouldn't quicken with child. She set her jaw and told herself she would not burden Peeta with such knowledge. She felt the last of the seed kernels slide down her throat as she aimed her arrow true and shot a fat squirrel.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, between their kisses and soft caresses that had finally led to more, the sky had opened up and blanketed the world in white. Katniss had begged Peeta to take a rest day, to not go in to the bakery after having just arrived from the Capitol. In truth, she wanted nothing other than to lie in bed with him all day, their clothes forgotten on the wood floor, the heat of their bodies warmth enough. But he was determined, and she let him go, pulling herself out of bed not long after. She had dug through the cabinet where her mother kept the medical supplies and found the jar full of wild carrot seeds. She knew there were easier ways to prevent children from entering the world. One call to Dr. Aurelius, or even her mother, and she mused she would be given as many of the little pills as she wanted. In the Capitol, there were countless other ways for doing such a thing – shots that could be given once every few months, minor procedures that lasted years, or even surgeries on females or males to irreversibly render them infertile. But the seeds would have to do for now, she had thought to herself, and trudged out into the snow-covered wilderness.

She shot another squirrel where it watched her from a high branch, then shimmied down the tree trunk, her bow slung over one shoulder, to gather her kill. She removed each arrow from where she had pierced the squirrels' eyes and watched as tiny drops of blood stained the snow red. Already patches of brown earth were showing through, and Katniss knew it was too early for the snow to stick. And as much as she reveled in the softness of it beneath her boots, she knew she would curse it come deep winter.

A little past mid-day she stopped and enjoyed warm tea poured from a thermos she had packed. The bit of Greasy Sae's leftovers she had brought was cold, but she ate the food heartily, letting it warm her from the core. She saved the last of the autumn leaf cookies for the end of her meal, letting the buttery taste of the dough and the sugary burst of frosting fill her mouth. She thought of Edda, who had given her the cookies, and Theo, and how they didn't have any children. Was it by choice, or had some other, more personal tragedy fueled their search for a better life in a different district? Peeta most likely knew, but would never tell. From her own heartache, Katniss knew that such burdens were theirs alone to share with whom they chose.

Katniss had just about giving up on her day of hunting, the afternoon sun hanging low in the sky, when she caught sight of a large wild turkey foraging in the underbrush from across an open clearing. She froze in her tracks and prayed breathlessly that the tom had not seen or smelled or heard her. The bird appeared oblivious, going about his business of scraping along the ground for acorns. With a series of deft movements, Katniss slipped behind a group of short bushes, her knees pressed into the snow, and raised her bow, her cold fingers pulling the sting taut against her cheek as she aimed. She loosed the arrow and it met its target with a loud thud. The tom had tried to rise up in flight at the very last moment, and so had tumbled over, wings outstretched, arrow sticking from its long neck. Katniss picked up the large bird with some difficulty, realizing how heavy it was. She remembered the day that Gale had snagged a wild turkey, holding it over one shoulder as if it weighed nothing, and mistakenly offered it to the new, stricter Peacekeeper. She remembered the sound of the whip, Gale's unconscious form, and the feel as the leather cracked across her cheek. She remembered the snow coat, and this kiss she had given him in his opiate-induced haze. That seemed so long ago. Nearly two years had passed. She blushed a deep crimson to think of kissing Peeta and what that had led to just the night before. Something deep within her had taken hold and she had only felt shy for a moment to be naked in front of him. It was a precious part of her being that she had chosen to share with Peeta. Something that set him apart from Gale.

Katniss made her slow return to the Victor's Village, the plump turkey weighing down each step. She was sweating head to toe by the time she climbed up her back step, the day no longer cold but impossibly warm – to her, at least. She dragged the bird into her kitchen and rested on a stool, staring down at the heavy burden. Buttercup sniffed the large bird warily, as if the thing would suddenly jump up alive. A few much-needed glasses of water later, she stripped to her undershirt and started plucking the dark feathers from the once-regal bird. The pile of feathers grew, and Buttercup swatted at them playfully. Once the turkey had been plucked, Katniss grabbed a meat cleaver and carried the bird outside, ridding it of its head and feet. In what remained of the snow, she cut a slit down the middle and its still-warm innards spilled onto the ground.

Katniss had taken the turkey back inside – setting it in the sink to be cleaned further – and was cleaning up the mess she had made outside when Greasy Sae arrived. The older woman took one look at the dismembered head and a slow grin broke out on her face. Katniss followed close behind her into the house. Greasy Sae finished cleaning the bird, humming to herself energetically. Haymitch burst through the back door not a moment later, disrupting the pile of dark feathers.

"Whoa, who murdered their pillows?" He said as the tiniest of the feathers blew up into his face. When he caught sight of the large, dark feathers, he let out a low whistle. "Or should I say, who murdered the crows…?"

"It's a turkey," Katniss responded with a scowl. "I just killed your dinner, so be nice."

Haymitch didn't reply, but eyed her from head to toe. And then she realized she must look a fright, standing there with turkey feathers stuck in her hair, stripped down to her pants and her sweat-soaked undershirt, blood smeared on her hands and the meat cleaver she held. Without a word, she set the meat cleaver on a

She set the meat cleaver on a dishtowel and headed upstairs to clean up. She took her time picking the tiny down from her hair and let the bathtub fill with steaming water. When it was nearly full, she eased her tired body down into it with a contented sigh. Her arms and legs ached from climbing trees and crouching high in their branches. There was another ache she felt, and she colored to realize it was from her revelry with Peeta the night before. It was not an unwelcome ache, and she let a self-satisfied smile play on her lips as she sunk deeper into the water and thought of the kisses and heated touches and entwining of limbs and new discoveries that had caused it.

Katniss was towel-drying her hair when the scent of roasting turkey invaded her senses. It would be a late dinner that night, for such a large bird would take hours to cook. She willed her stomach not rumble hungrily as she thought of the meager lunch she had eaten so long ago. When she finally climbed down the stairs, Haymitch was making himself comfortable on the couch, television screen on, while Buttercup eyed the older man warily from a rocking chair. Katniss ignored the sound of the reporter on the screen and headed toward the kitchen. She froze, however, when she heard the familiar sound of Peeta's voice. She turned back toward the television slowly, and stood transfixed in the doorway between the kitchen and living room.

There on the screen, a wide grin cutting across his face, his impossibly blue eyes sparkling, was Peeta. _They must be replaying one of his interviews from the Capitol_, Katniss thought to herself, but instead of shrugging it off and heading to the kitchen, she stayed, her eyes glued to the screen.

There was Peeta lying on a metal table, I.V. in his muscular arm, as a team of medics looked over him. Then it cut to a scene of him lying in a large, white tube-looking structure, lights flashing over his head. Katniss didn't want to see him like that, even as hale as he appeared. Medic facilities gave her chills to think of her own confinement, her own treatment. Trying to wean herself off the morphling pills. The procedures they had done to try and save her skin, and the grafts they had had to use for her burns. The aroma of the roasting turkey suddenly changed to the overpowering smell of burned flesh, and Katniss was afraid she was going to be sick. She rushed past Greasy Sae and out the backdoor, the cold night air filling her lungs.

"Katniss, what's wrong?" She heard his voice again, this time close and in person. She looked up from where she had been staring at the darkened, melting snow and saw him. He must have been just walking back from the bakery.

She was bent over, her hands on her knees, her warm, damp hair sending off steam in the cold, her breath ghosting in front of her.

"Katniss…" He repeated, then there were warm hands on her arms, and she tilted her head up to look at him. His eyes were narrowed and filled with concern, and in the dim light they were dark instead of impossibly blue.

"I'm ok," she said quietly, catching her breath. He gave her a doubtful look.

"Let's go for a walk," Peeta said, pulling off his coat and draping it around her shoulders. Katniss was grateful for the warmth and nodded.

She laced her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked back down the lane through the Victor's Village. Lights were on in every house, save for Peeta's. She really did need to talk to him about moving in. She smiled to herself and the suffocating feeling she had experienced earlier started to dissipate. The lane was brighter as it widened and headed toward the town square, but Peeta veered off to one side and sat gingerly on a fallen log. Katniss joined him, the thin slippers she had been wearing now soaked and filthy. They sat for a long while, Peeta gazing up at the stars and Katniss gazing at him. A dog was barking in the distance.

"Want to tell me what's wrong?" He asked again, still staring at the night sky. "If it's about last night, then I – " But she cut him off.

"No, it's not that," she shook her head and couldn't suppress the smile that broke out across her face and the warmth that flooded her cheeks. Peeta finally gazed down at her, a look of relief on his face.

"I saw a bit of your news story…" She started again after a moment of meeting his gaze, coloring further, then ducking her head down shyly. "I saw you in the medic facility and it just…it brought back bad memories."

"I'm sorry," he whispered and wrapped an arm around her. She scooted closer to his warmth.

"It's not your fault…" She added, resting her head on his shoulder. He let out a long sigh and she knew he was going to say something that she wasn't going to like.

"They want to do a news story about the district," he was saying, his tone even. "About the rebuilding and everything. And they want us – me and you – in it." He added and sighed again.

Katniss stiffened against him, her whole body growing tense. It took everything in her power not to shove his arm away and start yelling at him. News crews were going to descend on District Twelve and invade her life once again? She remembered doing the shoot for her six wedding dresses and how stressful that day had been. She remembered filming the propos for District Thirteen, their prized Mockingjay. And then she thought of the idyllic past nine months she had spent away from people dressing her up or sending her to her death or filming the whole thing. What would happen if they invaded her life again?

"No." She was saying and she realized that she had stood up from the log and was now facing Peeta. "No, no, no…" She continued, shaking her head.

Peeta was up and had folded her into his arms before she could protest, her head pressed against his chest.

"Katniss," He said, breathing her name. "Dr. Aurelius, me, countless others argued against it…but," he broke off for a second as if searching for the right words. "They want to know how the Mocking – how _you_ are doing."

She could have told him she didn't care, didn't care what anyone else wanted to know. That she was free to live her life without being on camera. There were no more Hunger Games, and she certainly wasn't going to be their spectacle.

"It's going to be Cressida. And Pollux." Peeta was saying, still holding her impossibly close. "They are filming the rebuilding of the districts anyway, so it's only natural…" The tension in her body eased slightly at the sound of those familiar names. She exhaled slowly, trying to let out the rage that she felt.

"I told them they couldn't," Peeta said, his tone more stern. "But they wouldn't have it. So I bargained with them." He paused for a long while.

Katniss let her breathing become more even, let the weight of the pearl around her neck pull her back to earth. She was still furious, furious at those who would make entertainment of her life. But she knew she couldn't take it out on Peeta. She thought with even more anger, about having to play the lovesick tribute for the cameras. How unfair it had been to Peeta. No amount of kissing or nights together in bed could ever make up for that. But she wasn't trying to _make up_ for anything, really. She was just trying to live the best she knew how.

"Do they want me to play up the loony factor?" Katniss asked. Her tone was gruff, but Peeta caught the edge in her voice and let out a small chuckle at her joke.

"No, you can just be you." He said, breathing in the smell of her hair and planting a kiss atop her head. "Come on, you're freezing," he said, pulling away from their embrace to lead her back toward the Victor's Village.

And it was true, she _was_ freezing. Her feet had gone numb as the cold had seeped through the thin rubber soles of her slippers. She was holding back shivers as they walked back the way they had come, Peeta explaining that filming wouldn't start until the completion of the Justice Building in the spring. Katniss felt relief that she still had some time before her life was invaded again.

So she let out a long sigh as Peeta wrapped his arm around her shoulder, the light from her kitchen window leading them back home.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:** Okay, so wild carrot seeds (aka Queen Anne's Lace) are one of the only herbs that has been shown to be (somewhat) effective as birth control (but mainly when used on a morning-after type basis as they can prevent implantation). So I didn't just make that up from the previous chapter. I doubt it would work for 15 years though, so no worries, that will be addressed.

And this chapter is shorter than the last few have been, and is basically fluff. Hope you enjoy! And many thanks and praises to those who have messaged me or commented/reviewed. Keep reading, and let me know what you think!

* * *

"No more accidents." She told him.

_No more leaving me behind,_ she really wanted to say. _No more going where I can't go_. But she didn't. She just spoke those three words in between innumerable kisses, her hands cupping his face, her legs wrapped around his hips.

"No more accidents. I promise." He answered matter-of-factly. He didn't tell her it wasn't a promise he could necessarily keep. He just pulled her impossibly close and pressed his lips to hers, his fingers sliding up her neck and tangling in her hair.

And they let their warmth mingle until there weren't two, but one.

Snow had fallen again, three weeks after Peeta's return, and that time it stuck. Each sure-footed step through the snow was the reverberation of her own heartbeat. The leather gloves she wore weren't the warmest, but allowed her to keep her grip when climbing trees. She made fists with her hands, then unclenched them, trying to coax blood into her cold extremities as she trudged through the wilderness. Birds flew from their roosts as she approached, knocking down snow on her uncovered head. She shook the white flakes from her dark hair wishing she had a hat. Earmuffs wouldn't do. Ever since her ear injury in the arena of the games, she couldn't stand something to muffle sound.

She walked more slowly when she reached a clearing in the woods surrounded by thick underbrush. Her bow at the ready, she lunged forward, scaring the birds from their hiding spot beneath a large bush. There were three, and the middle bird fell to the snow mid-flight with a solid thud, arrow piercing its chest. Katniss pulled the arrow from the quail and slid it back in her quiver, stuffing the small bird into her pack. She was glad it wasn't a turkey, remembering the weight of the tom she had shot a few weeks earlier. It had made one fine feast, though.

Katniss's appetite had slowly returned in the weeks since Peeta's return and her confession. She had never been more sure of her love toward him, and it felt as if for once in her life, she was being afforded some measure of joy. And of course, with the confession of her love came all the wondrous physical aspects of love. The tender caresses, the whispered endearments, the kisses that stirred something deep within her until amorous embraces led to something more. She had chewed the wild carrot seeds dutifully until she finally broke down and called Dr. Aurelius. A box arrived a few short days later, little blue pills staring up at her from the clear plastic packages. She took one each morning, after Peeta showered and left for the bakery. She had stowed the box in a seldom-used bathroom cabinet, not necessarily trying to hide them, but if Peeta never saw them or asked about them, she would happily avoid the topic.

Dr. Aurelius had been somewhat surprised by her request, letting out a high-pitched "oh," then clearing his throat and briskly replying that he'd have it shipped out that very day. She was relieved when he didn't ask any questions or make any comments about how her relationship with Peeta must have improved. She had figured calling him would be easier, more clinical and reserved, than if she had called her mother. Her cheeks had turned red when she thought of telling her mother. Perhaps her mother had already guessed as much. Of course there had been the nights together on the train – as innocent as those had been – and Peeta's pregnancy announcement before the Quarter Quell. Katniss was just glad she didn't have to ask her mother to send her birth control.

Her snares had been buried in the heavy snowfall, and so she spent the afternoon setting new ones instead of digging out the old. Katniss was tying her last knot to a thick tree trunk when the glistening snow caught her eye and a memory filled her senses. Snow ice cream. She could almost taste the cold, sweet treat on her tongue. She remembered making it with Prim, scooping up cups of freshly fallen snow and mixing in Lady's milk with sugar and a few precious drops of vanilla extract. How sweet it had been, Prim's blue eyes sparkling as they prepared the treat. The ache in her chest was sharp and the taste in her mouth suddenly bitter when she thought of how Prim would never share such a treat again.

That night, she and Peeta dined on quail, the small bird just enough meat for the two of them. It was quiet, intimate, the scraping of forks and knives on plates their only conversation. But stolen glances, a blush creeping slowly up Katniss's neck, smiles that promised more – that was their true language.

"I was thinking of a special treat today," she said once they had finished their meal. "Something me and Prim used to enjoy in the winter," she explained, realizing that saying Prim's name aloud without becoming completely swallowed in her grief was getting easier and easier.

She gathered the ingredients – a can of condensed milk would have to substitute for goat's milk and would be sweet enough without sugar. Peeta watched her, a smile playing on his lips. She opened the kitchen door and gingerly made her way down the steps, her bare feet pausing on the last one as she bent over and scooped up snow into a large bowl. She could have laughed as she ran back up the steps and into the kitchen, breathless from the cold. Peeta could have kissed her, telling her to forget that treat and led her upstairs for something different yet just as sweet. Instead, he chuckled at her, cheeks red from the cold, bare toes poking out from the hem of her pants, breath ghosting in front of her face as she turned to close the back door. She mixed the condensed milk and drops of vanilla into the snow, scooping out large portions for herself and Peeta. They enjoyed the snow ice cream on the couch, the fire dancing in the hearth. Peeta wrapped the quilt around their legs and Katniss moved closer to his warmth, spoon in her mouth.

"So you used to make this with Prim?" Peeta asked between spoonfuls.

"Mhmm," Katniss nodded, the sweet, cold treat melting on her tongue. "My mother showed us, when we were little." She explained, once she had swallowed. There was a lump in her throat, though, when she thought that Prim would forever be little.

Peeta scooted away from her and she narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to protest. But then he set his bowl on the coffee table and stood, the quilt pooling on the ground, and pulled the book of memories from the bookcase. He handed it to her without a word and she took it, juggling the bowl of ice cream in one hand and the book in the other. Once she had set her bowl near his on the coffee table and found a pen, she set to work on Prim's entry, adding a few sentences about the winter treat.

"Anything you want to add?" She asked, looking up from the couch to where he was still standing near the bookshelf.

He looked at her, sitting there with the book propped on the coffee table between their bowls of mostly-eaten ice cream, the light of the fire reflected on her face, and shook his head. Something passed across his features, something she couldn't quite place, but then it was quickly replaced by a look she had discovered and carefully memorized over the past three weeks. A look of desire. Katniss dropped the pen onto the coffee table. Peeta must have seen a look of recognition, and hopefully – she thought – that same look of desire, for he closed the distance between them in one determined stride.

His mouth was on hers and it was as if the heat of the fire was not contained in the hearth but within him. The kiss tasted of ice cream. His hands were on her waist as he guided her down onto the couch and she felt his fingers on her skin where the hem of her shirt had ridden up. She felt his fingers ghost along her skin and she tried to suppress a giggle at the ticklish movement. She failed though, half-giggling into their kiss and he pulled away to look at her, and laugh. She scowled back at him, almost tempted to see if he was ticklish, but his hands had stopped moving and were gripping her hip bones and suddenly there was too much clothing between them. Katniss's scowl turned into a smile and she reached up and slipped her hands under his shirt. Peeta helped her pull it off and then they were kissing again, almost frantically, his hands a bit clumsy as he unbuttoned her shirt. She had to sit up to slide her arms out of the garment and her mouth bumped his, teeth scraping, as he tried to maintain their kiss. She stifled a cry of pain, but Peeta pulled back and watched her face. She caught his worried eyes and then she _did_ have to laugh and lean forward and kiss him. How could she have ever imagined that she would be there, kissing a half-naked Peeta Mellark, on a couch in the Victor's Village? It seemed like some teenaged girl's fantasy, and then she realized that she _was_ only eighteen, though she had lived a lifetime already. And so the old woman in her pulled away from him long enough to take off her undershirt and settle back down on the couch beneath him.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, pausing above her. The sight of her – her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, her gray eyes heavy-lidded, her lithe body beneath his, the light from the fire dancing on her skin – it was almost too much. He stared at the pearl, suspended there somewhere above her heart. A look of genuine wonder passed across his face and Katniss knew she loved him, then and there and forever.

"I love you." She said, not because he thought her beautiful. Not because he was the boy with the bread. Not because he loved her first. No, she loved him because he had become her life, her hope, her strength. She loved him because he was the radiance of the sun. He was the gentle warmth under which she had bloomed.

They lay there together for a long while after, clothes discarded haphazardly in the area around the couch, their ice cream long since melted. Their legs were still intertwined, Katniss's toes swirling patterns on Peeta's one good leg. Peeta was running his hands through her hair, his eyes trained on her face as she stared off at the fire. At some point, he had covered them with the quilt, and Katniss felt impossibly warm, and quite sweaty. She didn't complain though. Instead, she reveled in the feel of him against her, the hard lines and muscle. He was beautiful too, she thought, a smile playing on her lips.

"What are you thinking?" He asked, his hand still stroking her hair. She glanced up at him for a moment, his blue eyes bright in the firelight.

But she just let her smile grow wider and shook her head. After a while, the fire died down and Katniss was grateful for his warmth and the quilt. He was lying beside her, their bodies pressing together in order for both of them to stay on the couch, and soon his eyes closed and his breathing evened out. She stayed awake for quite some time, watching him. The peaceful look on his face, his blond hair falling over his forehead and covering the scars that whirled there. His impossibly long eyelashes that rested on his prominent cheek bones. The sharp line of his jaw. The muscular curve of his shoulders and arms. The rest was covered by the quilt, but Katniss had come to know his body as if it were her own. She remembered with a grin how shy she had been in the games when she found him, stripping him down to his underwear to clean off his badly infected wound. Something between them had been pulled taut, then broken, and now she felt more shyness in meeting his knowing gaze than lying naked before him.

So she planted a delicate kiss on the corner of his mouth, hoping she wouldn't wake him, and curled into his warmth. Sleep found her soon after, and she gave in without protest.

The early morning sun was streaming in the downstairs windows when she finally woke, Peeta still lying beside her. She smiled to herself and a part of her was glad that Greasy Sae no longer let herself in to cook breakfast. What a sight she would see, if the older woman had peaked in, Katniss and Peeta lying naked together on the couch, the quilt slipping down and revealing a little too much skin, clothes everywhere but on their bodies. Katniss sat up to grab the blanket, the chill of the morning creeping in with the fire dead in the hearth, and Peeta stirred. He scrambled for a moment, then remembered it was his day off and smiled, burying his head in her neck, his lips pressed against the metal chain.

"What do you want to do today?" She asked after he pulled back, and she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Peeta thought for a moment, then smiled.

"I think I'm going to paint," he said, and Katniss had the feeling that the study would be filled with nudes – of her. She could have narrowed her eyes at him and scowled, but he was the only one who ever ventured into that room, so she didn't really mind.

After they both showered – and cleaned up the living room – Katniss tucked a warm woolen hat over her damp, braided hair, and headed toward the woods.

She walked through the snow and thought of checking her snares. She smiled to herself, her face growing warm despite the cold, when she realized she had already ensnared what she had wanted most – Peeta.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:** Glad everyone enjoyed the fluff from the last chapter! Hope you enjoy this chapter. There's some humor, some angst, some drama, and a touch of fluff. And things get discussed. You'll just have to read the chapter to figure out _what_ things, hehe. Again, thanks for all the lovely reviews, comments, and messages! You guys are an excellent audience, I couldn't be luckier!

* * *

Though the construction of the Justice Building had halted for a few weeks due to the heavy snowfall, Katniss knew it wouldn't be put on hold forever. One day, sooner rather than later, it would be built and then she would be expected to make an appearance at the ribbon-cutting ceremony and do an exclusive interview – alongside Peeta – that would be broadcast all over the nation. Peeta had tried to outline the events for her, as he had been in fairly constant contact with Cressida and other involved parties since he returned from the Capitol, but she generally avoided the topic. As busy as he was at the bakery, she didn't see how he had time to coordinate such plans, but he did, and the phone at her house rang more now than it ever had. Peeta took the calls, unless it was her mother or Dr. Aurelius wishing to speak with her. She knew she had more free time, but she refused to help with anything to do with the filming. She didn't want to be filmed. She didn't want to stumble over her words in another interview. She didn't want to be broadcast all over the country as a symbol of survival and rebirth. No, she wanted to stay in her own little world that she had created in District Twelve, Peeta coming in from work to quiet meals with her, Greasy Sae and Haymitch and others joining them on occasion. She wanted to stay the Katniss she was in those snow-covered woods – a strong, skilled hunter – or the Katniss she was at home with Peeta – a quiet, yet ardent lover. She did not want to remember the Katniss she had been – the scowling tribute determined to forsake kindness, the lovesick victor who wasn't trying to defy the Capitol, or the symbol of a revolution she had been thrust into. Who was she going to play in front of the cameras? Herself, Peeta had assured her those many weeks ago. But she scoffed to think that they would want to even bother with her as she was now. The life she had now _was_ rather boring compared to all she had been through.

Sometimes she didn't want to hear Peeta try to explain what he'd spent an hour on the telephone about, and so she would shut him up with a passionate kiss, and he would forget everything he had been trying to tell her and take his time to kiss her back. Haymitch was nosy, though, and on the nights that he stumbled over, sloshing alcohol from his flask onto the snow, Peeta would spend the entire meal answering their former mentor's questions. Sometimes it was all too much for Katniss and she would push away suddenly from the table, her chair scraping the floor loudly, and stomp off upstairs, where their voices were only deep murmurs. Peeta would come find her a few minutes later and patiently sit with her on the edge of the bed until she decided to talk or until she wanted to do anything _but_ talk.

It was one such night, and Haymitch slurring on about how he was glad he wasn't the victor who was asked to make special public appearances any more was too much for her to bear. She was upstairs before she could even send a scowl Haymitch's way, her heart beating hard in her chest. She felt as if she couldn't breathe. She buried her head in her hands and almost didn't hear the slow, steady sound of Peeta climbing the stairs. She didn't look up until she felt the bed dip under his weight and his hip pressed against hers. Her eyes met his and she suddenly felt like she could breathe again with him present.

"I'm sorry," he said and covered her hand with his. She leaned her head on his warm shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief.

_It's not your fault_, she could have said, but she didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to talk at all. She squeezed his hand reassuringly and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She straightened up and turned to face him, her hand pulling away from his to cup his jaw. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, their mouths meeting somewhere in the midst of their movements. Katniss laid back on the bed and with her hands wrapping around his neck, coaxed him down as well.

She was enjoying kissing him, enjoying the feel of him lying flush against her, when the sound of someone clearing their throat caught her attention. In the doorway to her bedroom was Haymitch, one hand on his hip, the other paused in mid-action as he had raised it to take a swig from his flask.

"I…uh…just wondered where everybody went," Haymitch said, lowering the flask and averting his eyes after he had sufficiently stared at them. Peeta had moved and instead of lying directly on top of her, he was merely crouching over her.

"But I guess this explains things…" Haymitch spoke again in a gruff tone, this time actually taking a drink from his flask before he turned around and stalked off, cursing and muttering something about "just like a bunch of rabbits."

Peeta was still staring at the doorway, leaning over Katniss. She felt her cheeks color with embarrassment, but the humor of the situation took over and she laughed. Peeta gazed down at her and a wide grin broke out on his features before he too burst into laughter. He leaned down, pressing his forehead into the bed above her shoulder as their laughter finally died down. Then he was trailing kisses down her neck and her hands were on his chest. Katniss thought she heard the kitchen door slam shut a while later and the sound of someone cursing outside fading into the distance, but instead of pausing to listen, she pulled Peeta impossibly close and pressed her mouth to his.

Two hours later, they finally made their way back downstairs to find their half-eaten plates covered in tin foil and resting on the stove. Katniss reheated their food and they sat in front of the fire to eat. Peeta had hung a new painting above the mantle. It was a winter scene, a deep orange and gold sunset blazing against a world covered in snow. Katniss wondered if Cressida would want to film in their house, and she suddenly remembered the camera crews that had come to film them before the Victory Tour. She remembered her lame excuse for a talent – fashion design that wasn't even hers, but Cinna's. Peeta had been the gifted one, had always been, with his beautifully skilled works of art. She was glad there would at least be familiar faces there to film them, but she still didn't want to open up her life to anyone. The world she had built back in District Twelve with Peeta was still fragile, in her mind. On the edge of breaking. There could be an accident, a particularly violent flashback, anything. She knew her feelings wouldn't change, but she couldn't predict the exact turnings of the world.

They cleaned up the kitchen and then Katniss let Peeta rub one of the medicated salves on her skin as she lounged naked on the bed. Once her skin was generously covered in the cream, she rolled over and patted the bed to indicate it was his turn, but he didn't move. Instead, he was gazing at her figure, the look on his face showing that he no longer cared about the salve. She smirked at him and shook her head and he gave in, pulling off his shirt before he lay down on the bed. She smoothed the salve on his skin and he let out a contended sigh.

"There are some details, about filming, that still have to be straightened out," he said after quite a bit of silence. Katniss paused, and she wanted to tell him that she didn't want to talk about it, but she knew she couldn't avoid the topic forever.

"Oh?" She managed with as much inquisitiveness she could muster, and continued rubbing in the salve.

"Yeah," he started, tucking his folded arms under his chin. "They want to know where we'd rather do the interviews, in the new Justice Building or here."

"Here." Katniss answered without hesitation, not wanting to think about the old Justice Building and the memories it had once held, years of tributes saying their final farewells in the hulking structure. Even though it had been demolished and a new building would replace it, she still shuddered at the thought.

"Ok, I'll let them know." Peeta said.

"For the interview…" Katniss started, "do you know what kind of questions they are going to ask?" She finished. How was she supposed to do an interview and be herself if she had been touted as a lunatic and then acquitted for killing Coin? What kind of questions would they ask her? About the rebellion, the assassination? Or would they stick to the rebuilding of District Twelve? How would they portray her to the nation?

"Cressida is going to send a list of possible questions for us to go over before they come," Peeta said, rolling to his side to look at her now that she was done rubbing in the salve. "I think it'll mainly be about the district, you know. Since that's what Cressida and her crew have been going around filming – all the reconstruction that's been going on. How the districts have changed or are coping…" He trailed off, and Katniss realized he was staring at the pearl where it was suspended above her bare chest. She reached up almost unconsciously and rubbed the smooth stone between her fingers.

She didn't want to think about going through the districts at war with the Capitol, filming as thousands of lives were lost. She didn't want to think of Peeta coming along, his whole body and psyche strained to be near her. Compared to their peaceful life now, it seemed a lifetime ago. He was a new person compared to then, having recovered and grown. She suddenly wondered how much he remembered about the pearl. It had hung around her neck for weeks now, and she knew he recognized it, but she had never asked him just how much he remembered. She touched the pearl again and looked down at him watching her.

"Do you remember…?" She asked softly, holding up the pearl. Peeta stared at the pearl for the span of a few minutes, then almost startled her when his impossibly blue eyes locked with hers.

"There was a plan," he said slowly, matter-of-factly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Lightning…" He narrowed his eyes in thought. "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to remember instead of just going off the tapes," he added in quickly.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, but as he spoke she scooted closer and closer.

"We ate a _ton_ of seafood – oysters." He smiled. "And I gave you that pearl."

"Mhmm," Katniss confirmed, "It was after you gave me the locket. After you tried to convince me to save myself," she said in a wry tone.

"Yeah, but when I gave you that pearl, I realized you were still going to try and save me…" He said as if there, half-clothed on her bed, he was realizing it for the first time. Of course the Capitol had tortured him into believing that she had tried to kill him. That she was selfish and evil and not even human. They surely distorted his memories of the quell and made him think she was only trying to save herself. So for him to now remember what he had truly thought back in the clock arena, it was a small miracle.

"Real or not real," he said suddenly, "you could really hear the force field?"

Katniss laughed at his question. Of all the things to ask…She knew he must have just remembered that, and she smiled as she shook her head.

"Not real," she said, still grinning. The corners of his mouth twitched up into something of a smile as well. "I made that up. Beetee and Wiress showed me how to see little, uh, _chinks_ in the force field, at the training center." She explained.

"Oh…" Peeta said, and the look on his face told her that more of the puzzle pieces were fitting together. Of course she refused to watch the tapes from the quell, so she had no clue how the Gamemakers had edited it – what scenes they had included, what dialogue they had omitted.

"The pearl, Peeta," Katniss said and moved to where she was sitting beside him on the bed. She took his hand in hers and brought it up to her chest, closing his fingers around the pearl. She closed her eyes for a moment as the heat from his arm pressed against the bony part of her chest warmed her bare skin.

"I kept it with me," she continued, still holding his hand around the stone. "Always. In District Thirteen, after you'd been taken…it gave me hope." She didn't know if she was explaining it right. She didn't know if he would understand, but she knew that she had to tell him.

"It gave me hope that I would get to see you again." She said, and realized that her fingers were gripping his a little too tight. "It was all I had to keep going. To live. Was the hope that I would get to see you again." He looked confused for a moment and Katniss realized that her voice had begun to tremble and tears were welling up in her eyes.

"It was all my fault," she continued, trying to suppress a sob. "We should have never split up. It was all my fault…"

Tears were falling down her cheeks by that time and his look of confusion turned into one of dawning recognition, then muted pain. Of course he might blame her when he finally remembered what had happened in the arena. That, coupled with all the false kisses and caresses and confessions of love for the camera, and she wouldn't blame him for feeling that way.

Peeta let go of the pearl, and for a second she thought he would move away from her or even leave. But then his hands were cupping her face, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. His face was close to hers, his blue eyes searching hers. And then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her impossibly close, her hair tickling his bare skin. She laid her head on his shoulder and let the lurching in her stomach settle. She had been so afraid that he would hate her. That he would reject her. Of course the hijacked Peeta _had_ hated her, but he was more of a nightmare than a reality. This Peeta – her Peeta – was kind and strong, loving and patient. And she knew that Haymitch had been right all those times he had said she would never deserve him.

"It's not your fault," Peeta was whispering, one hand stroking her hair as it fell down her naked back. "You didn't know, you couldn't have known. And it's done. It's over." He paused and let out a sigh.

"It's enough just to know that the whole time, you were trying to save me…" He said softly. There was something in his tone that spoke of love, and a sense of wonder.

And as much as she hadn't wanted to admit it, as much as she had denied it – for whatever reason – she realized that she had loved him all along. Her love for him now was true and strong, and perhaps her love for him before had been different, but she realized that little by little she _had_ come to love him. Even before she was fully conscious of it, it had begun to bloom and grow until she _had_ to save him. Until he was everything good in her life, everything good in the world, and he _had_ to be the one to leave the clock arena. If she had lost him, she would have lost everything.

"I love you," she said. And she knew it would never make up for how she had treated him before. A whole lifetime of kindness toward him wouldn't be sufficient atonement. But he didn't blame her. And she wasn't living her life for redemption.

"I never could save you…" She whispered, her head pressed against his shoulder. "It was you. You saved me…"

And she thought about how even before the games started, he had been trying to save her. Revealing his crush in order to win her favor with crowd. To make her desirable. And in the games, telling her to run after she had loosed the trackerjacker hive on the Careers, and even staying behind to fight with Cato. Then asking her to shoot him, to pierce his heart with an arrow so she could win the games. Her love for him had been a ruse for the cameras, a way to earn gifts and stay alive, and then a way to appease President Snow. But how could she have ever thought his love, his devotion toward her was just for show? _She_ was the one who had not put the pieces together.

He pulled back then, just enough to press his lips to hers. And the kiss tasted like salt, and water, from her tears.

It was like the process of healing, how the two found their way back together, how their lives grew with one another. And like the process of healing any wound, any fracture, it was often times painful. Not every day was full of happiness. There were nights where the strain of the day took its toll on them and Katniss could only greet him with bitter words and he could only answer in a heated tone. She would grow silent and close herself off to him, which would only aggravate him further. And sometimes she would yell back at him until he would grab the kitchen counter or a chair not due to one of his flashbacks, but because she infuriated him so.

Like the night he found the birth control. It was deep winter, the coldest of months, and she had been out long past dark. She had packed a small battery-powered light to find her way back through the woods, her thick layers of clothing slowing her down. She had tried to hurry back, half-worried that Peeta would miss her or that a pack of wild dogs might find her. The only animals she saw, though, were an owl, a fox, and a few raccoons, their eyes glowing eerily in the darkness. She had been relieved when she saw the lights of the houses in the distance and sped up her pace, arriving breathlessly at her back door minutes later. She had climbed the steps and stood sweating in the warm kitchen as she pulled off layer after layer of clothing. That's when she saw Peeta sitting at the far end of the kitchen, the box that contained the tiny blue pills in their clear plastic coverings set beside him on the table.

She was unwrapping the thick scarf around her neck when his eyes locked with hers, a look of betrayal on his face.

"Can we talk about these…?" He managed, picking up one of the packages.

And suddenly she was angry with him. She had hurried home so that he wouldn't worry about her out there in the dark, had just walked in through the door, and without even a greeting he was asking her about the birth control pills? A bitter voice in her head wondered if he would have even been worried had she not returned. She let out a noise of exasperation, throwing the unwound scarf to the ground, and made sure her boots hit the wooden floor solidly with each step she took toward her bedroom – and away from him. He rose to follow her, though, the box in one hand.

"Katniss, can we please talk about this?" He asked again, his voice more forceful.

"I just stepped in the door," she answered, her tone strained. She sat on the edge of the bed and unlaced her boots. He stood in the doorway, the box of pills still in his grip.

"Just please explain this to me…" He said, his tone a tad gentler.

"What were you doing? Going through my stuff?" She countered, her voice filled with venom. She sat there, her arms crossed over her chest, and waited for his reply.

"I wasn't going through _your_ stuff," he spat back. "I just found these, in the bathroom." He tossed the box toward her and it hit the ground, the pill packages spilling all over the floor.

She could have screamed at him. She could have pulled at her hair, she was so furious. She could have thrown her boots back on and stalked back off into the wilderness. But it would have been to no avail. She paused and took a deep breath, pressing her hands to her face.

"It's _my_ body, Peeta," she said, her hands rubbing her eyes. Eyes that were tired from staring at the bright snow all day. She stood and carefully picked up each pack of pills that had landed on the floor, placing them delicately back into the box. She refused to meet his gaze as she walked past him and into the bathroom, setting the box back in the empty cabinet.

No, not every day was full of happiness. But they always made up. They always forgave each other, and sometimes even laughed over their spats. She would smile to think that he was the one who usually caved and apologized first. He would seek her out, admit his fault, and she couldn't stay mad at him. The way his blond hair fell over his forehead, the sincerity in his blue eyes, his attempt at a remorseful smile – she would narrow her eyes for only a second, then laugh to herself and make her apology as well. All would be forgiven as they embraced or kissed, and all would be forgotten as they lost themselves in each other.

"You're right, it _is_ your body," he said after he had apologized over their confrontation about the birth control pills. He was sitting on the bed, next to her, holding her hand.

"I never wanted to have children, Peeta," she confessed. "Not when I grew up in the Seam, not with the games…" Her voice trailed off. Of course there were no more games, and the people of District Twelve were thriving, but she was still young and scared despite her strength.

"It's just…my family is gone," he spoke softly, breaking the silence that had settled in between them. "I mean my brothers, my mother and father." He corrected. She looked up from their hands and met his gaze.

"You're my family now," he continued. "And one day, I was just hoping we could expand it."

"Peeta, I – " she started, but he cut her off before she could argue with him.

"Not any time soon," he said quickly, and she didn't argue further.

She gave him a look, but he just sat there with such hope on his features that she was afraid this was an argument she was going to lose one day.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N:** Glad everyone enjoyed the little bit of angst/drama in the last chapter. Nope, not everything can be happily ever after in my story. Not much angst or drama in this one, but we _are_ getting closer and closer to springtime and the filming! Thanks for all my wonderful reviewers. You guys are amazing!

* * *

Katniss gazed at the structure, her arms crossed over her chest, the down coat crushed against her. It was bitterly cold, but work that had been pushed back by heavy snowfall had resumed. Workers had raked the snow off of the concrete foundation, dusted it off the beams that had been raised. More wooden boards had been added, and Katniss could distinguish the different rooms and the three stories. The Mayor's Mansion that stood next to the Justice Building was almost finished, most of the construction work in the fall having focused on it, so that it could be the new mayor's residence sooner than later. It had been two weeks after the winter solstice when Peeta came home from the bakery and told her that Thom had made an announcement. He wasn't going to move into the Mayor's Mansion. Instead, it was going to be converted and used as the new school.

Katniss looked at both structures, the usual din of hammers and the hum of saws silent in the late evening, the workers having already gone home for the night. It would still be a few months until the Justice Building was completed, until the camera crew would descend on the district to film their piece on the reconstruction. Katniss let out a long sigh and her breath ghosted in front of her. Few people were out that night, and so she turned when she heard the crunching of footsteps in the snow.

She didn't quite know who she had expected it to be. No, she _did_ know who she had expected – Peeta. The bakery was just across the town square from where she stood, and she had stopped off there before walking over to the construction site. If not Peeta, someone else from the bakery perhaps? Marc or his wife Anabel. Or even Theo or Edda, come to check on her out in the bitter cold. But no, when she turned she was sure her face reflected her surprise at seeing Leevy's slight figure standing close beside her.

"I…I was just at the bakery picking up some things…" Leevy's voice trailed off, a hopeful smile on her face. Katniss looked at the other girl who was holding a package, her bare hands turning purple from the cold.

"Oh?" Katniss asked, managing a smile for Leevy's sake. She knew she should ask her how she was doing, how things were going, but the words stuck in her throat.

"Yeah," Leevy responded brightly. "I picked up a loaf of bread and these frosted cookies my brother really likes." Katniss gave her a genuine smile when she thought about Peeta's delicious frosted cookies.

"How _is_ your family?" Katniss asked, and as easily as that, slipped into a conversation.

"Well, it's just me and my brother now," Leevy responded, her smile fading for a moment.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Katniss said, and suddenly felt guilty about how she had treated Leevy those few months ago at the field. Leevy had tried to show her sympathy, but Katniss had refused it. Yet there Leevy was, standing in the brutal cold, making an effort to talk to Katniss.

"It's all right," Leevy said, her smile returning. "We're getting by." She shifted her package in her arms and Katniss could tell she was close to shivering.

"Let me help you with that," Katniss insisted, holding out her arms that were puffy in her thick down coat. Leevy didn't protest, but handed over the package gratefully.

"Thanks," Leevy said softly, rubbing her hands together vigorously against the cold. "It's over here," she said, starting to walk toward the western edge of town. Katniss fell into step beside her.

"Have you been by the old house at all?" Katniss finally asked, curiosity getting the best of her. It had been so long since she herself had set foot in her old house. She had been a wreck then, swallowed by her grief. She wondered how Leevy had coped.

"No," Leevy said and shook her head, a pained look passing across her face. Katniss fell silent as they continued their short walk to Leevy's house.

"This is it," Leevy smiled, nodding her head toward a small house just a block off the town square. The lights blazed in its tiny windows, and Katniss smiled at its quaintness. She realized with a pang of guilt how huge her house in the Victor's Village was compared to most resident's. And it was only occupied by her and Peeta.

Leevy took her package back from Katniss and started up her front step. She paused at the top though, as Katniss blinked at the bright light shining from the open door.

"Do you want some tea or anything?" Leevy asked almost as an afterthought. Katniss stayed at the foot of the steps, her boots planted in the snow.

"No, but thanks." Katniss smiled up at her. It was late and Peeta would be done at the bakery soon. Perhaps she could walk home with him that night. She turned away from Leevy and started back toward the town square.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Katniss turned back around and asked. Leevy was halfway into her house. "You and your brother." She dug in the recesses of her mind to try and remember his name.

"Well, I work until five or so…" Leevy answered.

Katniss remembered that the other girl had been hired as the mayor's secretary. Leevy's father had worked the mines with Thom, so it was natural for him to hire her. Peeta had brought that bit of news home sometime after the winter wheat had been planted. Greasy Sae had come over to cook dinner that night and had brought up the subject of Leevy being at the field. Katniss had suspected that it was supposed to make her feel guilty. And it had worked. That was when Peeta had remembered the news about her new job and told Katniss, oblivious to the look Greasy Sae was giving her.

"You and Levan should come to the Victor's Village and have dinner with us – me and Peeta." Katniss said, having remembered the boy's name, before she could stop herself. "Sae is going to cook." Katniss added.

For a moment Katniss thought the other girl would politely refuse, and that would be the end of it. She would have done her part, making an attempt at friendship, but she would be fine just saying a courteous "hello" whenever they crossed paths. But after a moment of thought, Leevy's face brightened, and Katniss saw Levan – Leevy's nine-year-old brother – poking his head through the door.

"All right." Leevy said and Levan gave his older sister a hopeful look. "What time?"

"Come over at six," Katniss responded and turned back toward the town square.

"Ok, see you tomorrow," Leevy called out and Katniss raised one gloved hand to wave goodbye. In the background she thought she could hear the excited chatter of Levan asking Leevy about their plans before the other girl shut the door behind her.

Katniss crossed her empty arms back over her chest, trying to seal in her warmth as she made her way toward the bakery. Greasy Sae would be pleased that Leevy and Levan were going to join them for dinner. Perhaps even Peeta would be proud of her for inviting those two over. She smiled to think of how much Peeta enjoyed being around a group of people. His affability was a perfect balance to her coolness.

Peeta was just locking up the front door to the bakery, Marc calling out a goodbye from down the lane when Katniss made it back to the square. He wasn't wearing gloves, and his fingers struggled against the cold as he turned the key. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and shivered, letting out a noise of protest. Katniss laughed at him and linked her arm with his.

"I thought I was going to have to come looking for you," Peeta said as they walked toward the Victor's Village.

"I helped Leevy carry her things home," Katniss explained. Peeta glanced at her and smiled.

"How chivalrous of you," he teased, and Katniss shoved his shoulder playfully.

"Oh, and I invited her and her brother over for dinner tomorrow night," she added nonchalantly.

"Oh?" He asked and looked at her. She nodded and leaned in closer to his warmth as they walked.

She was glad that he hadn't teased her about inviting Leevy and her brother over for dinner. She could have told him that she was trying to be nice. That she was trying to make up for giving her former next door neighbor the cold shoulder for all those months. As much as she wanted her little world to consist of only her and Peeta, and occasionally Greasy Sae and Haymitch, she knew that other people did exist. And sometimes she had to prove that she cared about more than just herself. But he didn't tease her, or question her invite. Of course he was glad she was making more of an effort to form friendships, and even when it wasn't on his terms. They had Marc and Anabel, along with Edda and Theo, over for dinner half a dozen times since the summer. With the heavy snowfall and Anabel going on eight months pregnant, there had been fewer get-togethers as of late. She knew Peeta would enjoy the company, and so she smiled to herself and leaned her head on his shoulder as they trudged back home.

Katniss was up the next day before Peeta had even stirred beside her. It was early, the gray light of the winter morning barely visible over the dark treetops as Katniss gazed out the window. She slipped out of bed, doing her best not to wake him. He would be up soon enough heading to the bakery. She grabbed up her thermals, a sweater, and her pair of water-resistant pants and headed to the bathroom to get ready for a day out in the woods. She was sitting on the edge of the bed lacing up her boots when Peeta finally woke, blinking at her sleepily.

"Hey…" He managed, sleep still heavy in his voice.

"I'm off," she said, leaning over his still recumbent form and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I love you."

He reached up and pulled her down for another kiss, this time their lips meeting, and she was tempted to undress and crawl back into bed with him. She pulled away, though, knowing it would be short-lived as he would be up any minute and heading to the shower.

"I love you more…" He responded as she stood, and she smiled down at him, shaking her head.

The cold air hung in her lungs as she made her way deep into the forest. It hadn't snowed in a few days, so her snares hadn't been buried. She found three small rabbits and a squirrel, but all were pitifully thin from the brutal winter months. Still, she placed the animals in her pack and spent some time resetting her snares. She startled another squirrel a short while later, and almost missed as the thick down coat impeded her movement. The squirrel fell to the snow with little noise, though, an arrow sticking from its belly.

She circled the lake, the surface glazed with ice. She wondered how thick the ice was, but she wasn't going to press her luck by testing it. She wondered how far south the water fowl had flown for the winter, and she thought of the poor geese that lived at Haymitch's. Peeta had finally caved toward the beginning of the winter and spent one of his days off constructing a wooden shelter for the birds. They had filled it with warm hay and that's where the geese lived, huddled together. Haymitch had cursed at them at first, yelling that he didn't want the makeshift shelter in his backyard. Peeta had continued his work, though, and Haymitch had done nothing else to stop him.

She didn't stop for lunch, but headed toward town a little past midday, her pack filled with prey. She was sweating through her thermals by the time she reached Greasy Sae's modest house near the edge of town. The older woman opened the door and invited her in for tea, appraising the game Katniss had brought.

"I invited Leevy and Levan over for dinner tonight," Katniss told the older woman as she sipped her tea, her down coat hanging on her chair.

"Good," Greasy Sae responded, picking up the small rabbits and squirrels and taking them into the kitchen to be cleaned.

_I'm trying_, Katniss wanted to say. But she stayed quiet as Greasy Sae busied herself near the sink. A moment later, Katniss was surprised when Greasy Sae set a bowl of steaming stew and rice in front of her. She didn't hesitate to eat the offering of food, though, her stomach rumbling. She thanked the older woman between bites and Greasy Sae nodded from the kitchen. Katniss left for the Victor's Village once she had cleaned her bowl of food.

A few hours and a shower later, Katniss spent some time cleaning her house. Their house, she thought to herself with a smile. Peeta had finally conceded after careful coaxing one night while they lay in bed, and had agreed to give up his house next door. His things had all been moved over gradually, Katniss helping him on his days off from the bakery. He had agreed to let her and Greasy Sae clean the house come spring, then advertise around town that it was available.

"How did they decide who got the other houses?" She had asked one evening after clearing out enough room in her closet for his clothes.

Some of his things just wouldn't fit, and she let him use the rooms that had once belonged to her mother and Prim. She didn't offer to help him, though. At least not when it came to Prim's old room. Greasy Sae cleaned it every-so-often or else everything would have been covered in dust. And while Katniss didn't mind Peeta stowing extra clothes in the closet or putting away art supplies, she didn't care to join him in there.

"Well, they had a kind of lottery for the houses in the Victor's Village. All the people – couples or families – had to sign up that they were going to move into the district, then their names were put in." He explained. "People who were originally from Twelve got their names in twice."

Katniss shuddered, thinking it sounded too much like Reaping Day for her taste. Peeta saw the look on her face and merely shrugged his shoulders.

"So what about your house?" She asked. She didn't like the way it sounded though, and almost regretted asking.

"I don't know," he looked thoughtful for a moment. "I mean, I guess I could make a few calls to the Capitol and see what they would do with it. But it _is_ technically mine…" He trailed off. "I think it should be offered to the families in town first, if they want a bigger place, you know?" Katniss agreed.

"Maybe you should talk to Thom about that," she suggested. "He could figure something out."

Katniss still hadn't heard what had been decided, but she was sure it would be straightened out by springtime. Until then, she was just glad that Peeta was officially moved in and it was no longer her house, but their house. So she cleaned _their_ house diligently that afternoon for their expected company. She straightened the paintings that hung on the walls, dusted the mantle and the bookshelf and all the photos that stood framed there. She cleaned around the hearth, careful to not let the ashes fly everywhere. She was busy cleaning the kitchen when Greasy Sae stepped through the back door, large bags in both of her hands.

Katniss helped the older lady unload her things and then went back to wiping down the counters and straightening up the kitchen table with a nod of approval from Sae. The older woman took her time, chopping onions and bell peppers that had been harvested from her garden in the fall. Katniss sat perched on a stool watching Greasy Sae work, slicing pieces of sausage and bringing a pot of rice to a boil. Katniss eyed the food hungrily as the older woman made a thick brown sauce and added in the sausage, along with squirrel meat, in a pot over the stove. Katniss and Peeta never missed a meal, but they always ate better on the nights Greasy Sae cooked. The older woman still refused to sit and eat with them, even after all those months. In just a few short weeks, Katniss realized, it would be a year since she had returned to District Twelve. She couldn't even begin to name the ways in which she had changed. She remembered thinking of the banishment as a curse, being forced to live in the house that she had lived in when Prim was still alive. The house that she had lived in after the games, but before the quell and the rebellion. And the firebombing.

It had just been a house. A house with too many memories for Katniss's liking, but a house nonetheless. But Peeta had made it a home.

She pulled herself off the stool after quite some time, her legs stiff from sitting, and went upstairs to change for dinner. She hoped Peeta wouldn't stay too late at the bakery, but knowing he had dinner guests, he would probably be home soon. In the woods, she was fine by herself. She enjoyed the quiet, the solititude, the sound of her breathing and her heartbeat and the cadence of nature the only sounds she needed. But being alone for too long in the big house did something to her mood. She remembered when she had first returned and confined herself to the rocking chair downstairs, the days swimming by one after the other as grief swallowed her life. She shook her head at the memory and breathed in deeply. She wouldn't let it get to that again, she swore to herself. And she knew with Peeta there, he wouldn't let her get to that point either.

She pulled on a clean sweater and quickly braided her hair, wondering if Haymitch would make an appearance that night. She hoped silently that he would stay at his own house and not scare off Leevy or her brother. Of course Haymitch could be civilized when he chose to be, and if sober enough. But he had been more drunk than sober these harsh winter months, claiming the liquor was the only thing that kept him warm. She laughed to think of what an odd little family they made – surly, intoxicated Haymitch; Greasy Sae, who would stand over them in the kitchen but never sit down at their table; Peeta, who would try to enliven any mood with his jokes or a particularly funny story; and her, Katniss Everdeen of the Seam, who some days chose to laugh and other days stomped off from the table in a irritated mood.

Katniss heard the back door open and a few minutes later Peeta had joined her upstairs. His face was still flushed from the cold, but his eyes were bright.

"I brought home a cake from the bakery for tonight," he said, breathless from almost bounding up the stairs – which was quite a feat considering his prosthetic leg.

"Oh?" Katniss asked, perched on the edge of her – no, _their_ – bed.

"Yeah, frosted it myself," he said, beaming. "And some rolls and a few loaves of bread too." He added from the open door of the bathroom.

"I hope you didn't frost them too…" Katniss teased and she heard Peeta laugh from where he stood in the bathroom, changing out of his flour-stained clothing.

Katniess went downstairs and out to the front porch to wait on Leevy and her brother. She felt a tad foolish for not having told the other girl which house to come to, and for a few minutes thought they might not come at all. The cold had just started to get to her, her fingers numb as she crossed her arms over her chest, when she caught sight of two figures walking toward the Victor's Village. She slipped on a pair of rain boots that sat near the seldom-used front door and headed down the steps. The rubbery material didn't keep her feet warm as she trudged out into the snow to greet them, but they at least kept her feet dry.

Leevy greeted her warmly despite the cold, and nudged her younger brother until he let out a shy hello. They were dressed in sweaters and thick woolen coats, scarves tied around their necks. Levan wore a wool hat as well, but Leevy's head was bare and her ears red from the cold. Katniss walked them briskly back to her house, removing the rain boots before stepping inside. Leevy and Levan pulled off their boots as well, and Katniss could have laughed to think of the three of them standing around in socks.

Dinner started off quiet, Peeta attempting to make small talk with Leevy and Levan as they ate. The brother and sister seemed more interested in the food at first, but then Peeta got Levan on the topic of cookies and the boy responded with enthusiasm when he realized Peeta was a baker. Of all the times Peeta had seen Leevy at the bakery since her return to the district, had she not even taken Levan there once? Katniss thought about the situation though, how Leevy had lost her parents and the rest of her siblings in the firebombing. She imagined how precious the boy must be to her, the protectiveness she must have felt.

Levan was asking something of Peeta in an animated tone when Katniss caught Leevy looking at her. Something passed across the other girl's face, but then she smiled quickly before looking back down at her food. It had almost been a look of jealousy, Katniss realized, but without spite. More like a look of longing, longing for the life Katniss had. She couldn't remember, but had Leevy been one of the girls at school who had whispered and giggled about Peeta? She shook her head at the thought, knowing that the reserved Leevy would have never acted as such. Just as she, herself, had never gossiped or squealed over boys. And then she realized that Peeta was asking Leevy something, and Katniss figured she had better pay attention instead of retreating into her own thoughts again.

"How's the new job?" Peeta had asked, finally able to break away from Levan's questions.

"It's good," Leevy smiled. "I'm not very good with the typewriter, but I'm learning," she ducked her head as she continued. Levan rolled his eyes and made a noise in the back of his throat.

"Yeah, she practices _all_ the time, even when I'm trying to sleep…" The boy said in an exasperated tone. Leevy gave him a look, but Peeta and Katniss couldn't hold back their laughter.

"Thom – the mayor, I mean – he gave me a typewriter to take home. To practice on." Leevy explained, her cheeks coloring.

"Well, that's good," Peeta replied, spearing a potato with his fork. "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it in no time." He added in an encouraging tone.

"Oh yes," Leevy responded in an earnestly. "It's a good job. It's really more than I ever dreamed of…"

Katniss heard the words spoken and they echoed in her mind. She looked around the dinner table – Leevy eating almost shyly, Levan opening his mouth to start another barrage of questions, Peeta ready to answer with enthusiasm – and smiled to think that her life, too, was more than she ever dreamed it would be.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N:** Sorry it took so long for this chapter, but I wrote it, then re-read it and completely scrapped it and started over from scratch! Anyway, here it is! Ok, a little explanation, and I hope this isn't _too_ lame, but ever since I read the books, I've thought about how Peeta is possibly named after pita bread, and so what if his older brothers all had clever takes on bread names as well? Well, you'll see! And like I said, I hope it isn't too lame. There's some drama, some fluff, and a cliffhanger, oooh! So I hope you enjoy! Thanks to all my amazing reviewers and everyone who has taken the time to read this story. Next chapter: the ribbon-cutting ceremony and interviews!

* * *

Anabel had given birth. It happened in that in between time, not quite winter because the brutal cold had broken like a fever, the snow melting and the days getting warmer, but not yet spring, though the few green sprigs that peaked out from the dull brown earth hinted at what was to come. She had gone into labor in the middle of the night, Marc meeting Peeta in front of the bakery before dawn to tell him the news, then running back home to be with Anabel. The baby came later that afternoon, healthy and squalling and with a head full of dark hair and green eyes the perfect mirror of Anabel's.

Katniss was almost startled off her perch on a kitchen stool when Peeta burst in through the back door, home earlier than usual.

"Anabel had her baby," he said after he had caught his breath.

Katniss could have laughed at him standing there, out of breath, looking so proud that the baby could have been his. Her face stayed neutral, though, waiting to hear that mother and infant were well. Peeta had nearly collapsed into one of the wooden chairs at the kitchen table.

"It's a boy," Peeta was saying, a far away look in his eyes.

"Mom and baby are ok, right?" Katniss finally asked. Peeta had grown silent and she feared the worst. She had heard tragic stories from her mother, as well as other women of the Seam, and so she knew that not every birth was a joyous occasion. The complications – for mother or baby – were endless.

"Yeah," Peeta said, their eyes locking. "They're both fine. I stopped by on my way home from the bakery," he was smiling, but Katniss saw the pain in his eyes. If everyone was fine, what was upsetting him? They stayed silent for a long while, Peeta resting his face in his hands at the kitchen table, Katniss taking up a chair next to him.

"Peeta…?" Katniss asked finally, touching his shoulder gently. He looked up from his hands and there were tears in his eyes.

"They named him…" Peeta started, but the words caught in his throat. "They named him Rye, after my brother…" He finally managed, tears in his eyes.

And in one fluid movement, Katniss pushed back her chair and stood, leaning down to wrap her arms around him. He was clutching the edge of her shirt, his face pressed against her stomach. And Katniss knew that he wasn't crying because he was upset. No, he was crying because the universe was dividing him in two. The cruelty of the world had robbed him of two brothers, along with his parents, and yet in that same world these two friends had brought forth new life, and chose to name him so as not to forget.

Katniss ran her fingers through his blond hair, stroking his neck. She knew that no words would ever be enough. And she thought of Prim. Bright-eyed, wise beyond her years, gone-forever Prim. The thought of someone she knew, someone who had known Prim, naming their daughter after her made her stomach lurch. It was as if joy and sorrow were one. And she knew how Peeta must have felt.

She thought of little Finn as well, whose picture had been pasted into the book of memories. Annie smiling with her baby, a baby named after someone he would never meet. Someone he would never know except through stories. It was then that Katniss fully realized the importance of her book of memories. It was no longer some silly, homemade thing. No, it was all the things they couldn't say written down. It brought a little piece of each person mentioned, each name written, back to life. It was a sacred text, and if Katniss did ever give in and have children, it would be a text to learn from as well.

Peeta composed himself slowly, smiling and laughing as he wiped his tears on his shirtsleeve. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out in one long puff. Katniss moved back so that he could stand, pushing the wooden chair back.

"I told Marc we'd stop by tomorrow evening," Peeta said. "And, uh, bring them some food…" He added, one hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Katniss could have scowled at him, but she didn't. Of course it meant that she would be the one doing the cooking, as Peeta wasn't off work for a few more days. But she didn't mind, so long as Marc and Anabel could tolerate her mediocre skills in the kitchen. It was customary for friends and family to cook meals and bring food and even help clean the house when a baby was born. Katniss remembered when Prim was born and the folks of the Seam had scraped together whatever they could spare. It was the most food Katniss had ever seen in their tiny kitchen at one time, and the memory made her heart ache to think of the abundance of food she now enjoyed. How just a few months ago she had even gone so far as to throw away food when she had little appetite. Katniss set her jaw and determined that she would not let a scrap go to waste. Marc and Anabel would have plenty of meals, and if there was any need in the district, that would be addressed as well.

"Yeah, I can cook tomorrow and we can take it over to their house when you get off work," Katniss said and her hand found his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"But for now," she continued. "What would _you_ like to eat?" She asked him, a teasing tone in her voice. They had eaten on leftovers until the refrigerator was practically empty, and so they would need to cook something for dinner that night.

Peeta's eyes locked with hers and the look that passed across his face was a different sort of hunger.

Katniss spent the next day at home, cooking and cleaning and returning phone calls to Dr. Aurelius and her mother. She smiled to think of such ordinary tasks that filled up her time, and how much of a blessing they were. After her father had died, she had never really pictured herself having a house of her own. She just always saw herself with her mother and Prim, taking care of them by hunting and trading at the Hob. Then she had volunteered on Reaping Day, nearly three years ago, and she never thought she'd make it out of the games alive. After that, her life had been a blur of denial, confusion, guilt, and even despair. There had been determination, though, and she had survived. And now she had a second chance. A chance to be a different Katniss, a better Katniss, if not for herself, then for Peeta. She had lost loved ones along the way, had made and unmade friendships. But her ordinary life now was a precious gift that she wouldn't trade, not for anything. Except Prim. If some deal could be made, if there was some way to trade, then Katniss would easily have forfeited her life for Prim's. She already had once, on Reaping Day, but she would gladly do it again if it meant that Prim could live happily in this world. But Katniss shook such thoughts from her head. Prim was gone and all the wishing in the world would not bring her back. There was no reason to dwell on the what-ifs. Prim wouldn't have wanted her to anyway. Prim would have wanted Katniss to be happy, to live well.

Katniss greeted Peeta with a kiss when he came in that evening from the bakery. He had just walked in the back door, hanging his coat on the wall and sliding off his boots muddy from the snowmelt. She had been cleaning the stovetop, a pot of stew and a pan of roast quail ready for Marc and Anabel to enjoy. When he straightened up from taking off his boots, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. She pulled away quickly and Peeta gave her a wide grin. She turned to head back to the stove, but Peeta held on to her arm and tugged her close, his hands settling on her waist.

She knew they should pack up the food and head toward town, but she couldn't resist his soft lips and warm hands. He was leading her toward the couch, their lips never parting, and she was careful not to trip. Peeta, with his prosthetic leg, wasn't so lucky, though, and he caught the edge of an end table and fell, pulling her down with him. They missed the couch and lay in a heap on the floor, Peeta's arms still around Katniss's waist. Her hip smarted where it had hit the wooden floor, but otherwise she was fine. When Peeta let out a soft chuckle, she knew that he was all right as well, and they both laughed heartily. Katniss clung to his shirt and buried her head in his chest, laughing so hard that she had started to tear up. He smelled of oven fire and flour and cinnamon, and she breathed in deeply, her laugh dying in her throat. Peeta had stopped laughing as well, his hands finding the edge of her shirt and slipping underneath. His warmth on her bare skin was intoxicating, and she lifted her gaze to meet his. She saw a promise there, and need, in those impossibly blue eyes. Eyes the color of a cloudless summer day. The color of sunlight on the ocean.

Peeta closed the distance between their lips, his eyelids fluttering closed. Katniss melted into the kiss, and shivered as his hands stroked the sensitive skin on her back. She moved impossibly close, her fingers still toying with the edge of his shirt. She slipped her hands underneath the fabric and felt every line, every scar on his chest. And with an awkward tangling of arms and legs, they finally abandoned their clothes. The wood floor was hard and cold, but they were warm where skin met skin with urgent need, until Katniss could no longer tell where her body ended and his began.

It was some time later when they finally set out for Marc and Anabel's, later than Katniss had hoped to leave, but early enough that they didn't have to dely their visit another day. Katniss's braided hair was still wet from her quick shower, and it chilled the back of her neck where her sweater ended. It was too warm to wear a scarf, but she walked close to Peeta, hoping to absorb some of his warmth. She didn't lean on him, though, because he carried the large pot of stew she had made. Katniss carried the pan of roast quail, and they each had a bag weighing them down – Peeta's had a container of rice and one of potatoes, while the bag that hung from Katniss's right arm was filled with bread. It was slow going in the thick mud, but Katniss didn't mind. She smiled to herself and felt her cheeks turn red as she thought of what they had done earlier, in the living room. Peeta was quiet as well, and she knew his thoughts were elsewhere.

Marc greeted them with more enthusiasm than Katniss had ever seen him muster, and she couldn't help but smile. They carried the food to the couples' tiny kitchen, an older lady that Marc had introduced as Anabel's mother showing them where to put everything. Of course Peeta already knew Anabel's mother and greeted her warmly. Katniss wondered suddenly if _her_ mother would make the journey back to District Twelve if she and Peeta ever had children. The ache in her chest grew sharp and Katniss wasn't sure if it was from the thought of having children or because they might never meet their grandmother. Her thoughts were interrupted, though, when Anabel entered the living room, her tiny infant bundled up in her arms.

Anabel made her way to Katniss, Anabel's mother urging them to sit. They sat on the small couch, Anabel sitting down carefully. Katniss could see the infant's rosy cheeks and tiny nose, his dark eyelashes and crop of black hair sticking out from the small knit hat he was wearing.

"Want to hold him?" Anabel asked, her eyes bright. Before Katniss could protest, Anabel handed her the bundle and Katniss accepted, albeit reluctantly.

The baby was quiet, though, and surprisingly light, and so Katniss let her arms and back relax as she held him close to her chest. She realized then that the whole room had gone quiet, all eyes on her. Anabel was giving her an encouraging smile, as well as Anabel's mother. Marc nudged Peeta with his elbow, a self-satisfied grin on his face. And then there was Peeta, watching her with the baby, wide-eyed and with an expectant look on his face. Katniss met his gaze and had to hold back a scowl. Instead, she gave him a look that said, "don't even think about it."

"Don't you just want one for yourself?" Marc teased Peeta, seeing the look on Katniss's face. She did scowl then, and carefully handed the baby back to Anabel.

Peeta and Katniss left the new parents a short while later, Marc thanking them for the food. Instead of heading straight back to the Victor's Village, Katniss made her way toward the square, Peeta following close behind. On the opposite end of the square stood the two hulking structures, the Mayor's Mansion and the Justice Building. The Mayor's Mansion was finished and would open soon, as a school. The construction on the Justice Building wasn't quite completed and the sound of hammers and saws filled the evening. The workers were putting in overtime to complete the project in a month.

One month. That was when the ribbon-cutting ceremony would be held and the Justice Building would officially be up and running. That's when the camera crew would make their way to the district, when Katniss and Peeta were going to be interviewed. Katniss couldn't avoid the topic for too much longer. She remembered receiving the invitation in the mail, the scrolling, gold letters more of a joke in her mind. There were posters and flyers all around town announcing the event, and Katniss had Peeta to thank for that. He had spent the past few weeks in the study designing them, then sending them off to be mass produced. She hadn't said a word, but he hadn't shown her the rough drafts or asked for her opinion before the final drawings were made.

It had been two weeks prior when the boxes full of posters and flyers arrived. Two weeks since they had last argued. She had pulled out one of the posters, its borders were white, and most of it contained a drawing of the completed Justice Building, a bright ribbon strung between its stately columns. Large, dark words announced the ribbon-cutting ceremony, and below, the date and time. Near the bottom of the poster, drawn in perfect likeness, were portraits of her and Peeta, framed in their own little boxes. She slid the poster back into the box, her jaw set. An hour or so later, Peeta hadn't even made it through the back door before Katniss started yelling at him.

"What is _this_?" She spat angrily, grabbing one of the posters from the box and waving it at him. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he slipped off his shoes, then a look of recognition passed across his face when he caught sight of the poster.

"It's the poster, for the ribbon-cutting," he said innocently, pulling off his coat.

"I know that," Katniss answered through gritted teeth, his nonchalance infuriating her even more. "I just didn't know it was going to have my face plastered all over it."

"Well, it's too late to change it," he said. "And your face isn't _plastered_ all over it. It's one spot." He argued back.

Peeta gave her a look that said he wasn't sorry in the least, and she wanted to scream. She wanted to tear at her hair. Instead, she threw the poster at him and stomped off upstairs, retreating to the edge of the bed. She wasn't angry that a likeness of her was on the posters and flyers. She _was_ annoyed that Peeta had not asked her before he put them both on there, as if they were the main event. She didn't want to be filmed, she didn't want to be a made a spectacle. That was what she was truly angry about. She had already provided more entertainment for the people of Panem during the games and the Victory Tour, the Quarter Quell and all the propos and messages for the rebellion than she had ever wanted to. Even if it was just a ribbon-cutting ceremony, even if it was just one interview, she still didn't like the lack of control she felt. And as it had gotten closer to the date of the ceremony, she felt as if there was something Peeta wasn't telling her.

By the time Peeta climbed the stairs and sat down next to her on the bed, she had calmed down enough to not strangle him right then and there. She let out a long sigh and gave him a look, and he smiled back apologetically.

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning against her.

"You should have asked," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You should have at least shown me…"

"I know," he agreed, wrapping an arm around her and reaching up to run his fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry, I really am." He apologized again.

"It's just…it's too much like before." She confessed, staring off at nothing in particular. He stayed silent and waited for her to speak again.

"It just feels like they're controlling me again. Making me perform, like in the games or the quell…" She explained. Peeta listened intently, his hand giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"I just…I wasn't myself a lot of the time, in front of the cameras." She didn't know how to explain it, how to make him understand without bringing up the part where she had only pretended to love him.

"I know." Peeta said softly, his gaze pulling away from hers. He stared at the floor, trying to mask a look of pain. Her hand found his knee and she rested her head on his shoulder.

That had been two weeks ago. Katniss had begrudgingly allowed Peeta, along with a few people he paid in cookies to help, to hang up the posters and flyers all around town. There was even a poster hanging on the signpost for the Victor's Village. Katniss had shaken her head, but hadn't argued with him anymore over the matter. She _did_ wonder what he was keeping from her though. What secret plans had he made on all those phone calls of his?

Katniss had tried for the past fourteen days to coax it out of him, asking questions about the event, making comments and watching how he reacted.

"So the film crew, they are coming in the day before the ceremony?" She had asked.

"Yeah, they are going to stay in the Mayor's Mansion." Peeta had replied.

"And they are leaving after the ribbon-cutting ceremony?" She watched him closely. She knew already that they would be interviewed earlier in the day, before the ribbon cutting, which was late in the afternoon.

"Yeah," he replied, but he looked off quickly, making her suspicious.

And now they stood in front of the grand structures, Katniss surveying the buidings with her arms crossed over her chest, Peeta watching her. The new Justice Building seemed more simple that the last. It stood three stories tall with large windows and a few columns. Steps made out of concrete led up to its large doors that had been painted black. Workers were busy on the scaffolding, painting the building white. It looked rather stately, less imposing than the old building. But perhaps that was because it was not the same building she had been escorted into twice to say her good-byes. She shuddered when she thought of the Justice Building in District 11, how the gunshot had rung out just as she was being pushed through the door. She shivered despite the warmth of the evening and turned back toward the Victor's Village.

She let Peeta talk as they walked home, but she only caught half of what he was saying. He was going on and on about little Rye, Marc getting time off from the bakery, the new work schedule Peeta had planned out with Edda and Theo. Katniss nodded or let out an inquisitive "oh" at the appropriate moments, but her thoughts were elsewhere. They were where fear still lived. The fear that at any moment, her perfect little world could crack. The fear that there was nothing she could do to stop it. Cressida and Pollux and the rest of their team would be here in four weeks. They would be mailed instructions and a list of questions for the interview soon, but Katniss knew that Peeta had already gone over most of the details during his phone calls.

That night they drank hot tea together in front of the hearth, even though it was almost too warm for a fire. Katniss enjoyed the feel of his body next to hers on the couch, the quiet they shared together with no need to speak. She enjoyed the way the light from the flames danced across his features, reflecting from his blue eyes. She watched him for a long time as they sipped on their drinks. He finally caught her looking, though, and she quickly looked down to her mug.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, lifting the mug to his lips to take a sip. She looked back up at him, but she didn't smile.

"You." She said matter-of-factly. She wanted to ask him, to know what he was keeping from her.

"Oh yeah?" He asked in a teasing tone. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yeah. I want to know what it is…" She managed. "What it is that you aren't telling me." His eyes narrowed slightly and the smile left his face.

"Katniss…" He started, and she didn't know if he was going to pretend like it was nothing or if he would even tell her.

"No." She said, setting her teacup aside and folding her arms across her chest. "Tell me."

He let out a long sigh and set his teacup aside as well.

"I made a deal with Cressida." He started. "Part of the deal was exclusive interviews with us. No other films crews are allowed in the district."

And for that, Katniss was grateful. She could imagine film crews swarming the district, people trying to catch glimpses of her on film, photographers hounding her every step as they once did to popular Victors who took up residence in the Capitol. Peeta had spent hours on the phone since his return from the Capitol, though, ensuring nothing of the sort happened. New regulations had been put into place that anyone wishing to film in a district - for commercial purposes - must first obtain a permit. And Cressida held the only permit to film in District Twelve. But what was the other part of the deal?

"And…?" She asked, her tone softer now that he was telling her.

"Well…" He started, looking slightly nervous as he spoke, "I made another deal. But it doesn't matter. Not right now, at least…" He trailed off.

"What deal?" She asked, a look of confusion passing over her features. Why wouldn't it matter at this time? Was there some future event that Peeta wasn't telling her about?

"The other part of the deal depends on you, Katniss." He said, then paused. "You _can_ say no."

A tense silence filled the space between them.

"This isn't exactly how I planned it…" He started and let out a soft chuckle.

"Planned what?" She asked, even more confused.

He leaned forward and kissed her, one hand cupping her jaw. She returned the kiss, but he pulled away too soon. She smirked, thinking he was trying to get out of answering her question. But then why had he pulled away so quickly? She met his gaze and his warm hands found hers.

"I've wanted to ask you this since I was six years old and saw you for the first time." He was saying, his words coming out in a whirl of syllables. Katniss was still too focused on the kiss and the feel of his hands in hers to understand quite what he meant. "Since the first time I heard you sing…"

He paused and the full weight of what he was saying sunk in.

"Katniss, will you marry me?"


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N:** I'm so glad everyone enjoyed the last chapter! I decided to add a little twist to the end, hehe, and after I completely rewrote the chapter was hoping it wasn't too ridiculous. This chapter is my longest to date, and in it we finally have the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new Justice Building. Hope you enjoy! And thank you SO much to those who have reviewed, commented, and messaged me. And of course to anyone out there who has stuck with this story, thank you!

* * *

His words hung in the air between them.

_Marry_ him? It certainly hadn't been the question she was expecting. Not when she had been asking him about the filming. His words had been sincere, though, his eyes bright and expectant.

"What…?" She asked before she could stop herself. She knew what he had asked, his words had sunk in, but she was still surprised. He wasn't asking her in front of a TV audience. He wasn't putting on a show or trying to get sympathy from the people of Panem.

"Will you marry me?" He asked again, smiling.

She realized then that she was standing, though she didn't know when she had moved from the couch. Her hands were still captured by his, though, and she looked down at where they were linked.

"I…" She started, but she didn't know what to say.

A wave of confusion swept over Katniss. Why was he asking this now, when they had been on a completely different subject? Why hadn't he explained what the other part of the deal he had made with Cressida was? She was tense, anxious about the ceremony and the interview that was just a month away, and her mind felt overloaded by his proposal.

"Peeta…" Her tone was filled with warning. "What was the second part of the deal?" He half-chuckled and pulled one hand away from hers to rub the back of his neck as he did when he was nervous, and she knew she wasn't going to like his answer.

"I told Cressida that _if_," he started, "_If_ you and I ever got married, they could film the wedding…" His words trailed off and he gave her an apologetic look.

Her mind reeled. Suddenly memories of Snow's threat and trying on wedding dresses and Peeta's fake confession that they were already married, secretly, flooded her. She didn't know what to think, or what to do. Was Peeta only asking her because of the deal he had made? Was the film crew or even Cressida pressuring him to marry her soon so they could film everything – the ribbon cutting, the interview, the wedding – all in one fell swoop? She swayed where she stood, but when Peeta reached up and tried to help her back down on the couch, she pulled away from him. Her eyes were wide, and she felt like she should be yelling at him. But she was more confused than angry, shocked than irritated. She knew it was going to take some time to wrap her mind around the idea.

"Katniss…" Peeta spoke her name softly, in a pleading tone.

"I…I just need to think…" She told him, still standing. He didn't move toward her.

"They didn't put you up to this, the Capitol didn't?" She asked him after a few long minutes of silence. Her arms were folded across her chest and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Katniss, no." He said, scooting toward her. "This had nothing to do with them, I – "

"It _does_ have something to do with them if you promised to let them film it." She said harshly, cutting him off.

"It's just Cressida and Pollux," he argued gently. "And I want nothing more in the world than to marry you…" He stood then, his hands on her shoulders. "And it's not because someone else put me up to it."

She locked gazes with him. His impossibly blue eyes were full of truth, full of hope. His hair was pushed back off of his forehead and she could see every pink whirl of the scars that marred his pale skin.

"Katniss, I love you." He said as if he were casting a spell. "I know the timing is off…I know you're stressed about the filming, the interview…" He was saying.

Without a word she closed the distance between them and pressed her head into his chest. His arms wrapped around her as if they had been made for only that purpose.

"I love you too…" She murmured into his chest, her eyes pressed shut. "I just need time…to think."

He pressed a kiss into her dark hair and hugged her tightly to him. He let out a deep sigh, and she couldn't quite tell if it was from disappointment or relief. She clung to him, though, as if he were the only thing holding her down to the earth. She just needed time, she knew. Time to see how she felt about the filming. She knew that she could easily marry him. She imagined a private toasting in front of the hearth, then a gathering of friends to congratulate them. And then their lives would be just the same as they were then, Peeta working at the bakery, Katniss hunting, and them spending every night of the rest of the their lives together. Perhaps they'd sign a marriage license when the new Justice Building was fully functional. But to have a big ceremony? To wear a white dress and say vows in front of a crowd and have the whole thing broadcast for the entire country to see? That's what she needed time to think about.

"All I have is time…" Peeta whispered back, a hopeful tone to his voice. "I'll wait. I'll wait for your answer," he said and pulled back enough to lean down and kiss her on the mouth.

She made a silent decision the next day, climbing a tree in the woods, that she would give him an answer after the ribbon-cutting ceremony. After the film crew left and she could stop feeling anxious about the event. Until then, she wouldn't even know how she reacted to the cameras being around her. She told herself this was different than before. She didn't have anyone threatening her friends or family. She wasn't being pressured to act a certain way. Peeta had been right, months ago, when he had told her to just be herself.

A large packet arrived two weeks before the ceremony, and Katniss and Peeta spent several evenings going over the list of possible interview questions. Some they laughed over. Others made them cringe. And some they wouldn't answer, not even to each other.

"Oh, here's one," Katniss said, scanning one of the pages. "'How did you feel when you lost the baby?' How am I even supposed to answer that, there was no baby." Katniss replied, nearly throwing the packet of papers down onto the coffee table.

"Yeah, they don't exactly know that was faked." Peeta said, an apologetic look on his face.

"Well, we might as well already be married then," she retorted. "I'm sure they don't know _that_ was fake either." She stood and stomped upstairs.

Not all of the questions were so personal, or so upsetting. Peeta had made several phone calls to Cressida, going over which questions were off limits while Katniss scowled in the background. And as the day of the interview and ribbon-cutting ceremony approached, Katniss felt much less apprehensive. The fact that it was early spring and that everything was green and vibrant didn't hurt. Katniss spent most of her days in the forest, and the sight of birds pairing off and building nests seemed fitting. She _was_ the Mockingjay, after all. She could have laughed at herself, and she did, at least in her head. She was not free like a bird. She could not fly. The Capitol and its new government had made sure of that, banishing her to District Twelve. But it had worked out in her favor, so far.

The day before the ceremony, they were busy. Peeta took off from the bakery and helped her clean their house while she cooked a large dinner with help from Greasy Sae. Of course Peeta had volunteered her to host a dinner for the film crew. She wouldn't mind seeing Cressida and Pollux again, but there would be a few others she'd never met. They were coming in on the five o'clock train and Peeta left for the station around four to retrieve them. Katniss had dug through her closet over the past few days, searching for something to wear other than her normal hunting attire. She found a simple floral dress for that evening, not too flashy but still quite breathtaking. At least Peeta had thought so when he caught sight of her in it. She had taken special care to shave her legs and fix her hair so that it fell down her back and shoulders in waves, to cover her scars. Peeta looked quite handsome himself in a button-down shirt and brown pants. He had decided against black as the long walk to and from the station was along a dusty road.

He was buttoning his shirt as she came out of the bathroom in the floral dress, towel drying her hair. He glanced up at her, then looked again, his eyes locked on her figure. She giggled.

"What?" She asked, her cheeks turning red from his obvious stare. She suddenly felt self-conscious.

"You look…you look amazing…" He managed, looking as if it was the first time he had ever laid eyes on her. She smiled at him and shook her head.

She stood in front of the vanity mirror and smiled when his figure appeared behind her. He watched as she finished brushing her hair and adjusting the pearl on her necklace, then he leaned toward her, kissing the back of her neck. She turned and he wrapped his arms around her, dipping his head so that their mouths met. She briefly contemplated undoing his work of just minutes before by unbuttoning his shirt, but that would lead to other things. Things they didn't have time for right then.

She turned and he wrapped his arms around her, dipping his head so that their mouths met. She briefly contemplated undoing his work of just minutes before by unbuttoning his shirt, but that would lead to other things. Things they didn't have time for right then.

"_You_ have to get to the station," she said after reluctantly pulling away. The look on his face told her he wanted to do anything but leave at that moment. She gave him a quick laugh and turned back toward the mirror as he sighed and walked toward the door.

"I'll be back soon," he called out as he descended the stairs. Her heart ached and she wasn't sure if it was from the anxiety over the filming or from Peeta's absence.

She was down in the kitchen, straightening the tablecloth while Greasy Sae stirred a pot of soup when they all arrived. There was Cressida and her assistant, whose name escaped Katniss, as well as Pollux and two others, a man and a woman both dressed in black. Peeta walked in the front door behind them, and then, surprisingly, Haymitch, who came in looking far more sober than usual. The crew greeted Katniss warmly and she was relieved to see that they hadn't brought any of their camera equipment. So at least there wouldn't be any filming that night, she told herself. The man and woman that Katniss didn't recognize introduced themselves as Loge and Mara, shaking her hand firmly.

Greasy Sae shooed Katniss away from the food when she offered to help serve, so Katniss took up her seat at the table. Peeta was already telling them all about his bakery and she realized with a start that it had been almost a year since it was opened. She remembered regaining her sanity slowly, walking to town one day. It had been the first time she had laid eyes on him since he planted the primroses. She smiled to think of all that had changed in that span of months, how they had gone from awkward conversations to meals together to sharing a bed to more…and now a marriage proposal? She had scoffed at the thought of marriage years ago, then warmed to the idea slightly at the mention of it from Gale. And now it was not out of the picture at all, she thought as she gazed at Peeta telling a story with enthusiasm, his hands gesturing in the air.

"Peeta was telling me that you helped plant a field?" Cressida asked Katniss a few minutes later. The overhead light shone off of her bald head and Katniss tried not to stare.

"Oh yeah," Katniss spoke up, "they converted some of the land from the mines into fields. We planted winter wheat, which should be ready for harvest soon." She explained.

"Do you know what is going to be done with the rest of the land?" Loge was asking. He had a strip of dark hair down the center of his head, but the rest was bald like Cressida's.

"No," Katniss responded, shaking her head.

"There was some talk about a factory being built," Peeta said. "But I don't think anything has been finalized."

Cressida and her crew looked thoughtful. Haymitch was sober and quiet, as well as Katniss.

"We could get some shots of the field," Cressida said, thinking aloud. "As well as the new buildings. Peeta's agreed to give us a tour of the bakery. So what do you say, Katniss? You could show us the field."

"Oh, ok," Katniss agreed. The more the group talked and planned, the less anxious she became. Seeing them away from the film equipment and around her dinner table helped, she knew. And then there was Peeta, sitting right beside her, resting a warm hand on her knee.

"So we'll plan on doing the interviews around ten o'clock here," Cressida said. "We'll come an hour or so early to set up. Then we can go film around town before the ceremony."

Katniss did feel a bit overwhelmed when she thought of the full day ahead of her. Cressida saw the look that passed across Katniss's face.

"Oh and we'll leave you two alone with _plenty_ of time to get ready for the ceremony. I promise." Cressida added.

The group stayed late, chatting over cake from the bakery and coffee. They spent quite some time trying to convince Haymitch to stand on the stage at the ribbon cutting, along with Mayor Thom and Katniss and Peeta. Their former mentor grumbled and complained that he was too sober for such, but finally agreed in a surly tone, provided they leave him alone until then. Cressida's assistant – Messalla was her name and Katniss could have slapped herself for not remembering – made notes as they talked, tilting the tablet toward Cressida every so often to show the director something. The mood grew somber as the film crew asked about any areas of the district that were still damaged. Katniss thought about her old home and spoke up before the weight of grief could hit her. There was the south end of the district that had yet to be demolished and rebuilt. And there was the uneven ground of the meadow – the only evidence that it had been used as a mass grave. Katniss knew that Cressida and her team had probably seen much worse, going through all the districts to film the damage as well as the reconstruction. But the thought of the meadow she had used so frequently as a place to enter the woods now filled with countless bodies caused her stomach to lurch and goose bumps to rise up on her arms. Madge and her family were buried there. Leevy's parents. Peeta's mother and father and two brothers. There were no markers, no name plates. Just the uneven soil to show that the ground had been disturbed.

"Have you thought about what you're going to say tomorrow?" Cressida was asking her, and Katniss was pulled away from her thoughts.

"In the interview?" Katniss asked.

"Oh no, at the ceremony." Cressida explained her question.

Of course Katniss hadn't thought of anything to say. She had been hoping that perhaps Mayor Thom would speak, even Peeta, and that she could just stand there until it was time to pick up the large golden scissors that had been special-ordered for the event and cut the thick red ribbon. And perhaps she could ask and Cressida would let her stand there silent. The event was more elaborate than she had realized.

"Now this is last minute," Messalla spoke up, flipping through her notes, "but we have one of the school classes singing the Valley Song. It will be toward the end of the program, but we were thinking maybe you could lead them…?" The assistant explained, a hopeful look in her eyes.

Katniss was quiet for a while, trying to process everything. First she had to think of something to say and not sound like a babbling idiot. And now they were asking her to lead school children in singing the Valley Song? Of course she could sing it, but sing it with a group of youngsters without a chance to rehearse? For a group that had been planning this ceremony for months now, they seemed a tad disorganized. Of course they had been busy filming the war torn areas of other districts, but still…

"You don't have to, if you don't want to…" Peeta said and gave her knee a reassuring squeeze.

"We've been told the class is very proficient." Cressida spoke up. Katniss didn't think the director would drop the issue so easily. "And well-behaved," she added with a smile. Haymitch laughed at Cressida's statement.

"I'll do it," Katniss replied and scowled at Haymitch. Everyone else looked relieved and they all commented happily, Messalla writing frantically.

They straightened out the rest of the details for the ceremony before the film crew left for the Mayor's Mansion. It was late when Katniss and Peeta finally had the house to themselves again. They tidied up the kitchen from coffee and desert. Greasy Sae had already cleaned up dinner before she left. Katniss hoped that the older woman was still getting paid by the Capitol for all the work she did. Katniss turned off the downstairs lights and headed up after Peeta, their bed calling her name.

The lay in bed together a little while later, both tired from the activities of the day, but too anxious to fall asleep immediately.

"It won't be too bad, I promise." Peeta said, his finger tracing delicate patterns on the bare skin of her arm.

"I know…" She said and realized that he was doing surprisingly well despite what he too had been through.

"Are _you_ okay?" She asked after a period of silence.

"Yeah…" He said as he exhaled a deep breath. His voice sounded strained, though. "I just keep my mind on other things, that way I won't have a flashback," he said and she suddenly realized his true strength.

Here she had been, fretting over the filming for months, and she hadn't even considered the stress it would put on him. When he had gone to the Capitol for his tests, she had imagined that it had been _his_ idea, the filming, the interviews. But she knew that it wasn't the case. He had been hounded by reporters and photographers and had done the best he could. He had kept it together, had been strong for her. He hadn't had a flashback in months, and she prayed that the crowds, the noise, the anxiety wouldn't cause him any trouble tomorrow.

So the next morning Katniss set her jaw and told herself she had to put on a brave face for Peeta. She jotted down notes of what she would say at the ceremony while she got ready for their interviews. She had searched her closet days earlier and found a lovely cream-colored dress – one of Cinna's creations – and slipped it on that morning. It was strapless with a fitted bodice, the skirt widening slightly at her hips and reaching just below the knee. It had a delicate lace overlay, and a fabric belt that cinched off her waist. She appraised her figure in the gown, standing in front of a full-length mirror. She was toying with the idea of wearing her hair up when Peeta came back into the bedroom, struggling with his tie. His eyes went wide when he saw her.

"Wear it up," he said once he could speak. She smiled to think of the effect she had on him, but frowned when she thought of her awful back.

"Yeah, but then my scars will show…" she complained, letting her hair fall past her shoulders.

He walked up behind her and brushed her hair away from her neck, planting kisses on it as he had done the night before.

"Wear it up." He repeated. "Be who you are, the Girl on Fire." He was saying between kisses. "Show them that they didn't defeat you. That you're proud and beautiful no matter what…"

She turned around and kissed him back, but unlike the night before it was still early, so she didn't stop.

Loge and Mara were setting up the backdrop downstairs when Katniss and Peeta finally righted their clothes and reemerged. Katniss had quickly pinned her hair so that it was suspended at the nape of her neck, a few wisps falling gently down her back. Pollux was adjusting the settings on his camera while Messalla drug over two chairs.

"Katniss, why don't you go first?" Cressida asked, but Katniss knew it wasn't really a question. She nodded and sat in the chair nearest the backdrop.

Once the lights had been adjusted and Pollux was stationed behind the one large camera, Cressida took her seat across from Katniss and neatly crossed her legs. Katniss took a deep breath to calm herself. She could see Peeta off in the opposite corner of the room watching her protectively. Cressida instructed her to not look at the camera and to take her time answering the questions. Pollux hit a button and a red light on the camera flashed on.

"Now, can you say your name, first and last, and spell it for me?" Cressida asked.

"Katniss Everdeen. K-A-T-N-I-S-S E-V-E-R-D-E-E-N." Katniss spoke slowly.

"Good," Cressida said. "Now I just want you to tell me how your life has been since you have moved back to District Twelve. Just start from wherever you feel comfortable."

And so Katniss started talking. She told Cressida about her grief over Prim's death – which she was sure they would spin as temporary insanity, an explanation for why she had murdered Coin. She felt stiff at first, her tone monotonous, but as she continued speaking, she imagined she was talking to a friend, or to Peeta, and her demeanor changed. There were tough questions, questions about how she felt about the old government, what had driven her to take on her role as the Mockingjay. She answered as best she could, her eyes flitting over to Peeta on occasion. He would smile, or nod, but sometimes his face remained neutral. Then there were more personal questions, questions about her and Peeta and their new life. Katniss stammered over a few of those, and blushed, but Cressida never stopped filming. When they were finally done, Katniss breathed a sigh of relief.

"That wasn't too bad, huh?" Peeta asked with a grin as they changed places.

Katniss hovered in the doorway between the living room and kitchen during Peeta's interview. Some of what he had to say, she didn't want to hear. He talked about what he remembered of the hijacking, of his rescue, and she turned and fled into the kitchen, pretending to be busy laying out drinks and snacks for the film crew. He lit up, being on camera, and suddenly he was the Peeta she remembered from before. The Peeta that had joked with Caesar Flickerman and had charmed the Capitol. Yet she had thought it something of an act, partially because she didn't believe some of the things he had said. But it _was_ Peeta, kind and loving, strong and loyal Peeta. And her heart skipped a beat to think he was hers alone.

The camera crew was quick to dismantle the backdrop and lights and tripod, fitting everything into sturdy black cases. Katniss would have preferred to walk to the field, but Cressida insisted that they all pile into a pair of rented cars. Probably the only cars for rent in the whole district, Katniss thought to herself.

They filmed Katniss walking along the edge of the wheat field, telling them what little history of the mines she remembered. She then told them about planting the wheat, how forty or fifty people had volunteered and worked hard. Once they were satisfied with their footage, they headed to the bakery to film. Quite a crowd had gathered to gawk at the film crew from the Capitol, but Peeta didn't complain as the people lined up for treats and for their chance to be filmed.

Katniss and Peeta parted ways with Cressida and her team there, politely refusing a car ride back to the Victor's Village. After a nice stroll in the cool spring weather, Katniss collapsed on the couch, covering her face with her hands.

"Is it over yet?" She asked, already exhausted.

"No." Peeta chuckled. "It's not _that_ horrible, is it?" He asked tentatively.

"No…" She conceded, removing her hands from her face and looking at him.

After a short nap on the couch, she was awakened by the sound of car doors slamming. She and Peeta had tried to convince Cressida that they would walk to town, but with them as one of the main attractions, the director had insisted that they take a car. Katniss stood from the couch and was straightening her dress when a shrill, but familiar voice filled the room. She looked up just in time to see a rather demure Effie Trinket striding toward her.

"Katniss Everdeen!" Effie exclaimed, her Capitol accent slightly less pronounced.

Katniss hadn't managed to let out a sound before Effie had gathered her up in a hug. Or perhaps what Effie considered a hug, since she leaned forward and raised both arms to wrap them around Katniss. However, her feet stayed planted where she stood and so she only her shoulders came into contact with Katniss. Then Effie pulled back, her fingers still gripping Katniss's arms and took stock of the former Tribute.

"Well, don't you just look lovely," Effie managed, though Katniss saw her wrinkle her nose at Katniss's unplucked eyebrows.

Effie was wearing a pale yellow dress suit, rather plain compared to her usual attire. Her hair was the same golden color as it had been the last time Katniss had seen her, and she had on green eye shadow and bright pink lipstick. She looked like spring to Katniss, and so Katniss could only smile. Peeta greeted her and she extended him the same pseudo-hug as she had Katniss.

"So how are my two favorite Victors?" She asked enthusiastically, linking her arms in there's as they headed out toward the waiting car. She looked back and forth between them, but Katniss had a blank look on her face.

"I've made you speechless!" Effie proclaimed as they slid into the back of the car. "I know, I know, what a surprise, right?" She chattered on and Peeta sent a mischievous smile Katniss's way.

"I didn't think I'd ever come back here, really," Effie was saying. "But then I heard about the ceremony and you two and they just asked me _so_ nicely, I couldn't say no." She was beaming. Katniss could have let out a sigh, but it was actually somewhat comforting to have Effie there, back to her old ways. Katniss remembered the vacant look that had plagued Effie's eyes the last time she'd seen her.

Peeta listened happily to Effie's chatter the rest of the short drive to the town square while Katniss occupied herself by looking out the window, although the scenery was quite familiar. The driver dropped them off behind the Justice Building and they were led in a back door. Effie commented on the changes they had made in the new building versus the old, while Katniss tried to calm her nerves. She picked at the hem of her dress until Peeta grabbed her hand in his. She tried to tell herself that this wasn't like Reaping Day when the three had stood very near that spot. It wasn't like the Victory Tour where they had been to every district's Justice Building, had stood in front of crowds of people on the verge of an uprising.

Before Katniss could catch her breath, the wide doors opened and sunlight blinded her for a moment. She nearly stumbled as she walked out next to Peeta, but his arm steadied her as her eyes adjusted to the afternoon light. Katniss stared at the back of Effie's wig, then caught sight of the crowd. There were the townsfolk, the people of District Twelve, cheering them on and clapping loudly. As if on cue, Effie stopped and Peeta and Katniss broke a part, each moving to stand on either side of Effie. Thom was already on the platform, standing in front of a wooden podium. Katniss guessed he must have announced them, but she hadn't heard a bit of it. After a few moments of standly stiffly beside Effie, Katniss remembered to smile and held up her hand in a half wave.

Effie broke away from them first, striding to the podium as the mayor stepped back. She spoke candidly about her experiences in the district, how her heart went out to those that had been lost. Katniss didn't hear half of what she said, but instead focused on the crowd. She caught sight of Marc and Anabel, who was holding their infant son proudly. Then there was Leevy, holding hands near the back with Levan, who was waving frantically at Peeta. She looked over and saw Peeta give the boy a small wave back and her face broke out in a wide grin.

There was movement from the edge of the crowd, near the steps of the Justice Building, and as if it had been staged, a drunken Haymitch barreled forward and climbed toward Effie. There were no Peacekeepers to stop him, and the crowd broke out into laughter when he slung an arm around Effie's shoulder and she tried to push him away. They struggled for a moment, to more peals of laughter, and then Effie managed to finish her speech as Haymitch tried to claim the podium.

"Let's hear it for Ms. Effie Trinket!" Haymitch slurred into the microphone, raising his arms to clap. The crowd gave in and clapped as well, and Effie recovered gracefully, straightening her suit and curtseying for them. She retreated to the back of the stage, near Thom.

"And now, let me introduce our favorite District Twelve Victors," Haymitch slurred again, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Katniss didn't think the crowd noticed, though, as they erupted into applause.

Katniss linked arms with Peeta and they both walked to the podium. They broke a part, though, as Haymitch moved back to stand near Effie, who scowled at him. A nudge on her back from Peeta signaled that Katniss was to go first, so she stepped forward and clutched the podium to steady herself. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the buildings out beyond the crowd instead of looking at all the faces that were staring up at her. She saw Pollux off to the side, the large camera propped on one shoulder, filming.

The microphone screeched horribly as she went to speak, and so she had to step back for a moment as the grating noise faded away.

"I just want to say thank you," she said, her mouth hovering above the microphone, her voice echoing in the distance. "Thank you, all of you who have been a part of the reconstruction of District Twelve. And also, to remember all of those who can't be here today, who were taken from us too soon….we remember them."

Her heart was beating in her throat and an odd buzzing had filled her ears as she stepped away from the podium. She turned and paused, though, and raised her fingers in a familiar salute. The crowd mirrored her movements silently, and the sight was so moving, so fitting, that a single tear trickled down her cheek. She then walked toward the back of the stage and stood next to Thom, Effie, and Haymitch. She supposed that the crowd was clapping and cheering for her, but all she focused on was staying upright. Peeta was at the podium next, and must have said a joke for she thought she heard the crowd burst into laughter as he paused. But she wasn't sure, as her legs were threatening to shake so badly that she had to grab hold of Thom's sleeve to stay still. Peeta finished his speech to rousing applause, then Thom helped her forward, an arm securely around her shoulders, toward the bright red ribbon. Peeta joined them there as Thom handed Katniss the pair of huge, golden scissors. She prayed that her hands wouldn't shake as she lifted them, and suddenly she felt Peeta's hands on top of hers, steadying them and directing the blades of the scissors around the ribbon.

With Peeta's help, her hands closed and the ribbon was cut in half, each piece fluttering slowly to the ground. The crowd cheered, and Katniss managed a shaky smile.

As if on cue, a group of around twenty children made their way up the steps of the Justice Building. They formed two rows, a group of ten on the top step in front of Katniss and the other ten below. Then they began to sing, their pure voices rising like twenty prayers to heaven. Katniss realized she was clutching Peeta tightly, her voice sounding along with them. Peeta sang too, though he couldn't remember all the words, and Thom sang loudly, and rather off key beside them both. The crowd chimed in and when the song finished, there was rousing applause.

Then they turned and helped Katniss back into the Justice Building, her legs shaking badly. Thom thanked her and Peeta, then spoke to Effie and Haymitch.

"You did great," Peeta said, and she looked at him, standing there in his shirt and tie, looking quite handsome.

She moved toward him and he wrapped his arms around her. She felt his solid chest against her cheek and she shuddered, the tension leaving her body.

"I'm just glad it's over," She said into his shirt and hugged him tighter. He chuckled at her.

She pulled back from him, his arms still around her, but enough so that she could look up into his face. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Effie chattering away with Haymitch and Thom in the corner of the large main hall. She turned her attention back to Peeta, whose face broke into a wide grin.

"And yes, Peeta Mellark," she said loud enough so that they all could hear. "I _will_ marry you."


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay, but I was away for Memorial Day and couldn't update! Anyway, here it is, another chapter! I hope you enjoy! As I near thirty chapters on this lovely fic, things are gearing up for the end. Now, don't despair. I'm debating on how/when to end this fic. And I may just have to start a companion fic to this one for *ahem* later *ahem* happenings. I still haven't decided that yet, though, but will let you know when I do. Thanks SO much to my awesome reviewers, commenters, and readers. I wouldn't have reached 29 chapters without such a great audience! So continue to review, critique, and comment!

* * *

The look on Peeta's face made Katniss want to break out in laughter, but she held it back and just smiled up at him. She heard Effie gasp, then shriek happily from the corner of the main hall. The look of shock on Peeta's face quickly melted into a wide grin before he pulled Katniss into another tight embrace.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Oh, a wedding!" Effie was exclaiming brightly as Thom and Haymitch looked on, confused. "How wonderful!" She shrieked even louder and Katniss pressed her face against Peeta's chest to stifle laughter.

It only took Thom and Haymitch a few moments to realize what all the high-pitched shrieking had been about, and then they too were congratulating the couple with warm embraces and claps on the back. Effie was rubbing her hands together as if she was already planning their entire ceremony. Katniss shared a look with Peeta.

Behind the Justice Building they said farewell to Cressida and her crew.

"There's going to be a wedding!" Effie exclaimed happily and Cressida instantly turned to Katniss. Katniss nodded her head shyly, smiling.

"Yep," Peeta agreed with a wide grin.

"I guess I'll be in touch, then," Cressida said slyly, her assistant Messalla scribbling notes furiously.

Pollux nodded his goodbye, and Katniss couldn't help but feel the loss he still held onto over Castor.

Katniss and Peeta tried to refuse a car ride back to the Victor's Village, but Effie wouldn't hear of it. She still had some time until her train, so Peeta invited her to their house for tea. Katniss found herself squeezed in the backseat of the car between Peeta and Haymitch, Effie chattering away. Effie dismissed the driver once they had arrived and instructed him when to return for her trip to the train station. She was straightening her skirt and sighing by the time she hurried up the steps and into the front door behind them. Katniss wasn't sure if it was because he had used up his supply of liquor that morning before the ribbon cutting or because of Effie's presence, but Haymitch decided to stay for tea as well. He made himself comfortable in one of the high-backed armchairs, receiving a hiss from Buttercup who had been perched on the top, napping.

Peeta and Katniss retreated to the kitchen to prepare the tea, Peeta filling a large kettle with water from the tap as Katniss found a box of tea leaves stowed high up in a cabinet. She was on her tiptoes to retrieve the box when she felt his warmth behind her, his arm reaching past hers. She was almost startled at first, but then had to smile as she pressed her body back against his. Peeta stepped back, pulling her with him, his arms wrapped around her waist. She felt his mouth ghost against her neck and she was suddenly warm all over.

"Are you ok?" He whispered, his arms still wrapped tightly around her. She smiled at his concern, realizing that despite the hustle and bustle of the past two days, she _was_ ok. And much of it was due to his presence, his strength.

"Mhmm," she managed, nodding. He pulled his arms away from her and set the box of tealeaves on the counter before turning back toward her. His hands rested on her waist and he bent his head so that his eyes were level with hers.

"You sure…?" He asked carefully, watching the expression on her face.

"Yes," she said, narrowing her eyes at him playfully.

She leaned in and kissed him. She tried to pull away after a moment, but his warm hands moved to cup her jaw and she was held captive, her back pressed against the kitchen counter. She didn't resist, though, and instead pressed her lips to his fervently, her hands moving up his chest with urgency. A few moments later, Katniss thought she heard a noise from the edge of the kitchen. Peeta pulled away, although reluctantly, and Katniss turned to see Effie making a noise of disapproval from the kitchen doorway. Peeta tried to suppress a grin, and Katniss stifled a laugh.

"Is the tea ready?" Effie asked, her mouth tight and her voice more high-pitched than normal.

"Almost," Peeta replied, clearing his throat to cover up a chuckle. "We'll be right out." He said as he turned toward the whistling kettle.

Effie nodded and turned back toward the living room, and Katniss thought she caught a wistful smile on Effie's face. Katniss carefully retrieved four teacups from a cupboard and sprinkled the leaves in each. Peeta grasped the handle of the kettle with a dishcloth and poured the steaming liquid, filling each cup. They served Effie and Haymitch first, Katniss offering them cream and sugar, then sat down on the couch and prepared their own drinks. Peeta hurried back toward the kitchen after a moment though, and came back smiling, a plate of cookies in hand. Effie refused the treat politely, while Haymitch grabbed one after touching the entire plateful.

"So," Effie started after swallowing a sip of tea and turning toward Katniss. "When were you thinking of a wedding? What time of year?"

Katniss turned toward Peeta, but he gave her a look that seemed to say it was up to her to decide. She took a sip of tea, then a bite of cookie to allow herself time to think.

"Summer…" She responded somewhat hesitantly. But as she thought more about the transition between spring and summer, the blossoming flowers, the warm weather, she knew summer was the perfect time to hold such a ceremony. June, when the primroses would bloom, she thought.

"Oh yes, next summer would give us plenty of time…" Effie began. Katniss grinned at the other woman's use of the word "us," as if Effie had suddenly appointed herself wedding planner. Peeta set down his teacup and placed his hand on top of Katniss's.

"What with all the flowers and of course the dress!" Effie was chattering on, whether anyone was listening or not. "We must have a special design for you, my dear. Too bad about Cinna," she tutted, shaking her head in her best rendition of sorrow.

Katniss felt the ache in her chest grow sharp at the mention of Cinna. She felt Peeta squeeze her hand in a comforting manner. Of course it wouldn't be the same without the designer creating her dress. She thought back to the six different dresses she had tried on, years ago. Part of her was glad she wouldn't have to go through that again, though, as she'd had nightmares about those wedding dresses. Katniss suddenly realized that the room had grown silent. Effie, Haymitch, and Peeta were all watching her.

"Next summer…?" Katniss asked in a lighter tone, backing up the conversation. "Why should we wait?" She asked, gazing up lovingly at Peeta. Effie let out a dramatic, yearning sigh.

"Let's have the wedding _this_ summer." Katniss said, holding Peeta's hand tight in hers. She knew she could have told herself she was putting on a show for Effie's sake – the look of longing toward Peeta, holding his hand, the desire to not put off the wedding – but it would have been a lie. Now that the idea of marriage had settled into her head and her heart, there was no shaking it. It seemed like the natural progression of things, like the transition from winter to spring, spring to summer.

"_This_ summer?" Effie exclaimed quickly, not giving Katniss much time to revel in her own thoughts. "Oh but that's far too soon! There's so much to plan…" She continued to state loudly.

"Well, I think it's time for me to head out…" Haymitch said calmly, eyeing Effie. He set his teacup on an end table and stood to leave. Peeta walked their former mentor the few feet to the front door as Effie continued to bombard Katinss with her concerns.

"Thanks for the tea!" Haymitch shouted soberly as Peeta held the front door open.

Katniss looked up at them from the couch, her eyes wide and begging for an escape. Haymitch waved, then leaned back and whispered something inaudible to Peeta, who chuckled before closing the door. Katniss, who had remained silent, felt one of Effie's delicate hands rest on her bare arm.

"Now Katniss…" Effie spoke softly, looking between her and Peeta, "there isn't some other reason why you want to get married so soon, _is_ there…?" She asked, raising her eyebrows questioningly and gazing from Katniss's face to her belly and back again. It took Katniss only a moment to understand what the other woman was implying and then she laughed.

"Oh no," Katniss said truthfully. "There's no pregnancy…" She managed, though it hurt to think back to that rumor, before the Quarter Quell, before she had lost so many loved ones.

"I don't have to have some elaborate ceremony," Katniss said once she had composed herself. She glanced up at Peeta who nodded reassuringly. "I haven't really thought of it, at all," she revealed to a shocked expression from Effie. "But I want something simple," she added quickly as Effie opened her bright pink lips to speak.

Katniss felt exhausted when Effie finally left a few hours later for the train station. She was already tired from the interview and the ribbon-cutting ceremony, but adding in Effie's assault about the wedding, and she was ready to call it a night at dusk. Effie had finally agreed to Katniss's terms of a simple wedding that would take place in the summer, and as Katniss and Peeta watched her slip into the backseat of the car, Effie poked her golden head out and promised Katniss she'd be in touch. Katniss breathed a sigh of relief as Peeta steered her back into the house and toward the kitchen. And even though Katniss claimed she wasn't hungry, Peeta fixed her a plate of leftovers that she ate.

They both had sworn Effie to secrecy about the wedding. Katniss didn't want there to be a frenzy in the Capitol if word got out that the two Victors were getting married. Of course there was the new regulation that one had to apply for a permit to film in the districts, but that wouldn't stop curious folk with the means to travel from crashing the wedding. Even if it was in District Twelve. Effie had promised not to spread word of the upcoming nuptials so long as she was allowed to plan most everything. Of course Effie assured Katniss that she, being the bride, would have the final say so, but Katniss just smiled and shared a knowing look with Peeta. Of course Katniss was glad to have someone to help her plan, or really plan everything for her. Now she had to tell her mother and convince her to return to the district, at least for the ceremony.

And there were others Katniss wanted to attend. As self-absorbed as they were, she did sometimes miss her prep team – Octavia, Flavius, and Venia. She wondered how they were doing under the new government. She also wondered about Portia, Peeta's stylist. She remembered Annie and Finnick's wedding with an ache. Would Annie come all the way to District Twelve with little Finn?

As much as Katniss loathed talking on the phone, she found herself answering calls more than ever in the weeks after the ribbon cutting ceremony. Effie called two or three times a week – sometimes two or three times a day – with all kinds of questions. Some were as trivial as what napkin rings she preferred. Others centered around theme, flowers, and colors. Katniss received at least one package per week filled with samples or swatches in every color imaginable.

"No, those are for the table cloths. For the reception." Effie chided her on the phone one evening as Katniss held pieces of fabric in her hand. She looked to Peeta for help, but he was busy in the kitchen.

"Uh, I guess let's go with the lace…" Katniss replied, eyeing the swatches of fabric.

"_Which_ lace, Katniss?" Effie replied, exasperation in her voice.

After many conversations that went similarly, Katniss started letting Effie just choose for her, at least on issues that didn't matter to Katniss.

Her mother had been excited about the news, but seemed a little hesitant when Katniss mentioned that the ceremony was going to be filmed. Part of her was hurt that her mother had been too busy to catch the interviews and ribbon-cutting ceremony when they had aired on television. But she explained the filming anyway, reassuring her mother that everything had gone smoothly and as planned. Katniss continued to mention the wedding, but she was too afraid to ask, flat out, if her mother would attend. She told the older woman when the ceremony was to take place, then held her breath for her mother's response.

"Well…" The older woman said after a period of silence. "I'll have to put in for leave for a few days…" Katniss thought she heard a bit of muted excitement in her mother's voice. She breathed a sigh of relief and realized her heart had been beating fast in her chest.

"So you're going to come…?" Katniss asked softly, almost as if in disbelief.

"Of course I'm going to come to your wedding," her mother responded. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

It was a warm spring evening when she met Peeta outside the bakery and the two headed toward the Justice Building hand in hand. Katniss ignored the few townsfolk that gawked at them as they climbed the stately stairs. Inside, a woman behind a large wooden desk greeted them, then pointed them to the back of the main hall. A large wooden sign, letters in gold, directed them toward a booth.

"Hi Peeta," the young woman behind the booth greeted him, then looked at Katniss.

"Hi there," Peeta greeted the lady back almost sheepishly. Of course Peeta knew just about everyone in town, but Katniss still gave him a look.

"What can I help you with?" The young lady asked cheerfully.

"A marriage license." Katniss responded matter-of-factly, giving Peeta's hand a tight squeeze.

The young woman didn't look surprised as she turned to dig through a wooden cabinet. She pulled out a large document and set it on her desk. The paper was thick with golden scrollwork as its border. Black letters in a heavy calligraphy covered the center of the document. There were blanks at the bottom for the bride and groom to sign, along with two other blanks – one for the appropriate official and another for a witness. A large space at one of the bottom corners was empty, waiting for the official seal.

"Just sign here," the woman said, pointing to the blank on the right as she handed Katniss a pen. Katniss signed, her signature scratchy and almost illegible, then handed the pen to Peeta. Peeta signed his name in scrolling letters, the look of which made Katniss smile.

"Alright," the lady said, spinning the document so that it faced her.

The young woman signed her name in the blank for the witness and then stood. She slipped the license into a different cabinet, then came back to her desk and flipped through a small appointment book.

"How about you two come back tomorrow, at four?" She asked, glancing up from the appointment book. "The Mayor'll sign the license with you two here, then we'll get it stamped and it'll be all official." She said brightly. Peeta and Katniss agreed and the lady penciled their names into the book.

Later that night, Katniss was enjoying some hot tea in front of the hearth as Peeta cleaned up the kitchen from their hasty supper. In less than a day they would officially be married, and Katniss couldn't keep her smile to herself. So she grinned at the flames, reveling in their warmth. It wouldn't be long until it would be too warm – even at night – for a fire. She had Peeta to warm her, though, and her smile grew even wider. She didn't look up as Peeta joined her in front of the fireplace. He held something in his hand, and she had assumed it was a saucer and teacup. But when he set it down on the tile, she drew in a breath.

On a small plate were several perfect slices of bread, and beside them, two long metal wands, perfect for toasting. She looked at him then and caught the look of hope on his face. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him, but she held back. Without one word, she picked up one of the metal rods and slipped a thick piece of bread on its prongs. She held out the handle to Peeta, who took it in his warm hand. She slid a second slice on the other metal rod and held the handle steady in her grip. They both scooted toward the fire, just close enough so that their bread was licked by the flames. Katniss almost giggled as she turned her piece back and forth, toasting it evenly. After a few minutes, they withdrew the slices and pulled the hot bread from the prongs.

Leaning across the hearth, their arms outstretched, they took a bite from each other's piece of toast, the earthy crunch of the flam-kissed bread filling their senses.

Katniss chewed her bite happily, a grin on her face. She tore bits off of her piece of toast, taking a bite for herself, then offering a bite to Peeta. When her piece had been eaten, they turned their attention to his piece. Afterward, she brushed the crumbs from her hands onto the hearth and laughed, freely and wholeheartedly. Peeta gave her a questioning look, a warm smile still on his face.

"As easy as that," she grinned. "And we're married."

Peeta leaned back across the hearth, but it wasn't for a bite of toast. Their mouths met and Katniss could taste the crumbs on his lips. The kiss started off soft and gentle, but Katniss refused to break away and it turned into something more urgent. She was warm – too warm – sitting in front of the fire and so she started removing clothes, Peeta's strong hands helping her. She felt him run his fingers through her hair, undoing her braid until her dark locks fell in waves across her bare shoulders. Her hands were frenzied, running up his back, his neck, across his chest and arms until she had touched every inch of him. Until she no longer knew where his body ended and hers began.

And much later they lay together on the hearth, a quilt from the couch cushioning them against the tile. Peeta ghosted caresses across her jaw, her cheek, their eyes locked in the aftermath of it all.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Mellark," Peeta spoke softly, smiling.

And Katniss's face broke out into a wide grin, her heart thudding happily in her chest. The light from the fire reflected off her face, but she knew that it was _his_ light that was truly shining through her.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N:** Sorry it took me so long to write this chapter, but I've just been taking my time lately, trying to feel out where each chapter is going to go (and how many chapters this fic is going to be total). But here it is! And it includes lots and lots of wedding planning. So maybe next chapter = wedding? You'll just have to read this one, then wait and see! Anyway, I'm glad everyone enjoyed the last chapter as I also took my time on that one, hehe. Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you who have taken the time to read this story and comment, review, and message me. If I haven't messaged you back personally to thank you, know that I do appreciate each and every one of you! So enjoy!

* * *

Spring was turning into summer before her very eyes. During the days she spent in the woods, she saw it. The air was warmer, the nests of spring that had once been filled with tiny, delicate eggs were now filled with baby birds learning to fly. Flowers had been blooming for weeks, and the shrubs and plants that blossomed later in the year had colorful bulbs waiting to open to the world. There were families of ducks that swam happily around the lake, and the water was finally getting warmer, tempting Katniss for a dip. The days were growing steadily longer, and Katniss would have stayed in the wilderness all day were it not for the constant calls from Effie or Cressida concerning the wedding.

Marc and Anabel's little son Rye was growing plumper by the minute. He would coo and smile, wrapping his tiny, perfect hand around any offered finger. Marc was so proud that he brought news of his son's progress to the bakery almost daily, and in turn, Peeta brought the news home to Katniss, who smiled and wondered at the small miracle that was life. With the warmer weather, they had Marc and Anabel – along with Edda and Theo – over for dinner quite often. Anabel brought Rye many of the nights, and each member of the group took turns holding him. Katniss would watch as Peeta held the baby so carefully in his strong arms, looking ever like the caring man he was and not the deadly Tribute he had once been. His face would light up as he smiled at Rye, and Katniss knew it would take quite some resolve on her part to withhold the gift of fatherhood from Peeta.

Leevy and Levan had joined them for dinner on several occasions. Katniss remembered the day after the toasting, when they had met at the Justice Building that afternoon to pick up their marriage license. Thom had greeted them warmly in the main hall, Leevy – his secretary – in tow. The usually reserved girl was beaming as the mayor signed the document, then stamped it with the seal. Thom congratulated them both, shaking Peeta's hand firmly and giving Katniss a warm hug. Leevy hugged them both, her cheeks a tad pink but her joy sincere. Peeta had invited Leevy and her brother over for dinner a few nights later and Levan had eyed Peeta and Katniss with skepticism when his sister announced that they were married.

"I'll show you the license, after dessert," Peeta told Levan. The boy still narrowed his eyes, though.

"Your sister was there, she saw us," Katniss added, nodding toward Leevy. Levan opened his mouth as if to protest.

"We had a toasting, then got the license, so officially, we _are_ married." Peeta explained.

"Ugh," Levan let out a noise of disapproval. "I don't know why you adults have to make everything so complicated." He said, shaking his head. Katniss, Peeta, and Leevy couldn't hold back their laughter.

Most evenings, Katniss found herself on the telephone with Effie or sorting through mail or packages that had arrived. Katniss had run out of places to stow all of the boxes that had been delivered and so their living room had turned into a cardboard jungle. The lace tablecloths had arrived, along with ribbons and paper lanterns and other decorations for the actual ceremony. Peeta just shook his head in disbelief when more boxes arrived, and Katniss had resigned herself to stacking them, unopened, wherever there was room.

Katniss had imagined an outdoor ceremony from the moment she had agreed to marry Peeta. Surprisingly, Effie had thought it a wonderful idea, though Katniss had the suspicion that the older woman thought there wasn't an indoor venue that would be suitable in District Twelve. Effie had it all planned – pale green wicker chairs with flowers and lights, a pink aisle runner cut from the costliest silk, and a stage made from live, green moss for Katniss and Peeta and the wedding official to stand on. Katniss had vetoed the pink aisle runner, but had agreed on most everything else. She had no idea how wedding ceremonies looked in the Capitol, but from what she had seen, Effie was indeed keeping everything quite simple.

"Rustic chic!" Effie had declared during one phone call. "Oh, my dear, after your wedding is broadcast all over the nation, it will be the next big trend in wedding themes!" Katniss could hear the hope in Effie's voice and she truly wished Effie the best. Perhaps this project would turn into a career of wedding planning.

So far, the event had not been leaked. Of course everyone in town and in the district knew that Katniss and Peeta had had a _real_ (despite what Peeta claimed before the Quarter Quell) private toasting and had gotten their marriage license the very next day. Folks Katniss had never spoken to suddenly were congratulating her and giving her marital advice. The weekend after their toasting, Peeta and Katniss hosted a group of friends for a reception of sorts. Greasy Sae came, although begrudgingly, as she had not been asked to prepare any of the food, along with her granddaughter. Haymitch was there, taking swigs from his flask and talking animatedly to Thom, who had taken time out of his busy schedule as mayor to stop by. Leevy and Levan came, and of course Marc and Anabel – without Rye, as Anabel's mother had stayed home with the infant – and Edda and Theo. A few others whom Peeta greeted warmly but Katniss didn't quite recognize also stopped by.

The mood was cheerful, and Peeta brought out a few bottles of wine to go along with the food and desserts. Of course Katniss had spent the better part of two days cooking, and Peeta had provided the bread, cookies, and cake. It was custom for a family member or friend of the couple to arrange a small reception after a toasting and cook, but Katniss wanted to do everything herself as she had more time and means than anyone else in the district. She would not have bothered with a reception at all because of the upcoming ceremony, but she wanted to keep that a secret until the last possible moment. Of course she had told her mother, who had invited Annie. Katniss had let Effie invite a few people from the Capitol – Venia, Octavia, Flavius, along with Portia and a few others, who had been sworn to secrecy. As much as her prep team liked to gossip, Katniss was quite surprised that the secret had not gotten out, at least in the Capitol. But Effie had assured Katniss that she had threatened the group sufficiently, and it wouldn't be a problem.

Peeta uncorked the bottles of wine as Katniss retrieved some long-neglected wine glasses from the cupboard. She rinsed them out carefully in the sink, ridding them of the dust that had collected. Many exclaimed happily at the sight of the wine, waiting their turn for a glass as Peeta poured. Anabel refused, but allowed Marc to have one glass, warning him sternly, then bursting into a fit of giggles. Leevy held her glass, but didn't drink much of the liquid. Levan eyed the dark drink warily, wrinkling his nose at the smell from Leevy's glass. Thom drank his glass enthusiastically, and Katniss wasn't sure if his cheeks had turned pink from the wine or from Leevy leaning close to tell him something. Peeta handed Katniss a glass once everyone else had been served, and she took it with a smile, the weight of it in her hand almost comforting.

She remembered the night she got horribly drunk with Haymitch. She remembered the next day, how she felt as if she were dying, how she had vowed to never drink again. But those memories were from years ago, and she almost laughed at herself as she took small sips from her glass, enjoying the heady aroma and then the acerbic bite of the liquid. She felt it warm her belly and her cheeks and the feeling wasn't entirely unwelcome.

The townsfolk were suspicious. All the packages Katniss had been getting by post, the visits from those odd people from the Capitol – Peeta heard most of the rumors and fielded questions directly from the inquisitive residents of District Twelve. He would just smile one of his brilliant smiles and answer the questions with a laugh.

"Oh, it's for Katniss," he explained about all the packages. "She's getting back into designing in her spare time. You know, clothes, home interiors – in fact, we are thinking of redecorating." He would say with a grin, and whoever had asked would be charmed into believing every word.

"Well, it's good to see that girl do something useful with her time…" an older lady had responded. "Instead of gallivanting off into the woods." Peeta had to stifle a laugh and just nod.

Effie had visited twice since the ribbon-cutting ceremony. During the first visit, she had traipsed around the land behind their house, her high heels sticking into the spring mud, to scope out where the wedding would be held. Katniss had followed her around at first, her hunting boots far better attire for the soggy ground, but finally gave up and sat on the back step waiting for Effie to return. Once Effie had deemed the area suitable – with crucial landscaping, of course – she had taken out a small device that was some sort of high-tech camera. Wading through the mud with enthusiasm, she had taken countless pictures of the land behind the house as Katniss watched. Peeta, off from the bakery, had joined Katniss on the back step, his hip pressed against hers.

"What is she doing?" He asked with a chuckle.

"Taking pictures – at least that's what I think she's doing," Katniss replied, resting her chin in her hands.

"So the ceremony's going to be out here?" Peeta asked, nodding toward the expanse of grass bordered by trees.

"Yeah…but after Effie gets through with it, I'm sure it won't be recognizable," Katniss said with a laugh. Peeta stood then, and coaxed Katniss back into the house.

"She'll come back…eventually," he joked, looking out into the distance where Effie's golden head was bobbing back and forth, her arms raising the small device every few seconds.

The second visit Effie made to District Twelve, she didn't come alone. Portia was with her, and Peeta and Katniss greeted the designer with warmth. They all felt the loss of Cinna, and Portia laid a hand on Katniss's arm, the look on the designer's face one of loss. Portia opened her portfolio and showed Katniss the dozen or so sketches she had made. Effie picked on Peeta and shooed him from the room – something about bad luck to see the bridal gown before the ceremony. Peeta left good-naturedly and went to fix refreshments in the kitchen. Katniss looked through the sketches and couldn't help but feel an ache to think about the gowns Cinna had designed for her those few years ago.

"Now Katniss," Portia was saying, her slightly husky voice comforting. "If you don't see anything here you like, I can draw up something on the spot. Just tell me, alright?" Katniss nodded quietly and picked up the drawings for a closer look.

The dresses were all gorgeous, but compared to Cinna's creations, simple. But Katniss had asked for simple, not showy. The first sketch was of a gown covered entirely in lace, a train spreading out behind the skirt. It was fitted, and the lace extended above the sweetheart neckline, ending in a beautiful beaded collar around the neck. It was sleeveless, and the back was low-cut, the lace scalloped out to reveal bare skin. The second dress looked like one of Peeta's cupcakes, Katniss thought. It had an enormous full skirt, which was cinched in at the waist. A beaded ribbon served as a belt, and the bodice ended in a sweetheart neckline like the first. The third dress almost seemed a mix of the first two, at least to Katniss. It wasn't as form fitting as the first gown, but the skirt was not as full as the second one. It was covered in lace, with a sash cinching in the waist.

"Now these dresses," Effie was saying. "Portia dug through fashion archives, wedding announcements from a hundred years ago to come up with something simple, yet timeless!" Effie exclaimed brightly.

"You need a dress that is _you_, Katniss." Portia said softly, laying her long fingers gently on Katniss's wrist. "Not some Capitol wedding gown."

Part of Katniss wanted to throw the sketches back down on the coffee table and stomp off. She and Peeta were already officially married, she didn't need some extravagant ceremony. It was pointless, a voice in her head was saying. Just another excuse to be dressed up and paraded around like a puppet, all for the sake of the Capitol. She was excited that her mother was coming, though, and if it took such an occasion for her to return to the district, then so be it. She also liked the idea that her friends who were spread all over the nation would all be there. She had been banished to District Twelve, so she couldn't travel to see them. But they could come visit her. She felt a sudden lurch in her stomach when she thought of Hazelle and her children. Gale.

"Are you going to invite Hazelle and her family, Katniss?" Her mother had asked during a phone call weeks prior. Katniss's breath had caught in her throat and her heart beat loudly in her chest. _Hazelle and her family_. The name Gale stood unspoken between them.

It would be rude not to, Katniss knew. And she would be glad to see Hazelle, and Posy, Vick and Rory. But would Gale attend? And what would she say to him if he did?

"Katniss..?" She heard her mother say and realized she had been silent for quite some time.

Maybe they wouldn't be able to come. Maybe they would all be too busy to make the trip back to the district, Katniss thought. No reason not to invite them, and then hurt Hazelle's feelings when she watched the ceremony on television.

"Yeah…" Katniss replied, almost in a whisper. "I'll get Effie to invite them."

That had been the end of that conversation.

"Katniss…?" Effie was saying, staring at her with a comically concerned look on her heavily made up features. Katniss shook her thoughts from her head and gazed back down at the sketches.

"Oh dear, I _am_ afraid it might all be too much for her." Effie whispered rather loudly to Portia.

"Katniss, we can do this at another time if you'd like," Portia said in her calm voice.

"Oh no, it's alright." Katniss assured the two women with a forced smile.

She continued to look through the sketches. One dress was completely covered in tiny white flowers. Another had a gathered bodice, then a dramatic skirt made from layer after layer of wispy, ruffled fabric. One gown was fitted throughout with a thick ribbon around the waist, but all around the dress a gauzy, translucent material swirled down in waves, forming a train. There was a dress that was covered entirely in beadwork. Another had a full skirt made completely of feathers and looked like some large exotic bird. One had a tiered skirt and a huge theatrical collar. There was a gown fitted to just below the hips where it the skirt expanded dramatically with beaded lace. It also had thick straps made of the same beaded lace.

"Take as much time as you need," Portia told Katniss.

"Oh yes!" Effie agreed energetically. "And then you can pick out a headdress!"

Headdresses? Katniss already felt quite overwhelmed from the endless sketches of dresses, but then to have to pick a headpiece to go along with the gown? It was far more complicated than Katniss had imagined it would be. Couldn't have Effie just picked the gown and accessories for her? She held back a sigh, though, and shuffled through the sketches again, explaining to Portia which ones she liked.

"I like the neckline on this one," Katniss was saying, pointing and she handed the sketch to the designer. Effie was making noises of approval from the other side of the couch. "But I really like the skirt on this one…"

After a few hours of going over the gown and the headdress and Portia drawing up even more sketches, Katniss was exhausted. Peeta poked his head in from the kitchen to offer drinks and the cookies he had been baking. When he was allowed back into the living room, he brought the refreshments out on a large tray, smiling down at the ladies. Katniss gave him a wide-eyed look that said "save me," and he had to hold back a laugh.

"Now Peeta, you're not off the hook entirely," Effie said, sipping some lemonade. "Portia needs to show you the sketches for the tuxedoes." Peeta had a surprised look on his face and Katniss grinned rather maniacally at him. Katniss grabbed up a handful of cookies and stood, ready to retreat to their bedroom.

"Oh Katniss," Effie called out as Katniss headed toward the stairs. "Don't be gone too long, we still have to go over shoes." _Shoes?_ Katniss forced a smile as she turned and stomped off upstairs.

Peeta joined her upstairs not thirty minutes later, sitting down next to her on the bed. He rested one of his strong, warm hands atop hers. She saw the look in his blue eyes and it wasn't one she altogether liked.

"They're asking for me downstairs, aren't they?" She asked.

"Yeah…" He said apologetically. "It really is a lot easier for the groom, huh?" He chuckled, and she scowled at him as she stood.

As overwhelming as it all seemed, Katniss actually enjoyed Effie and Portia visiting. Especially because it no longer meant it was time for the games. Katniss knew from overhearing conversations Effie had with the designer and over the telephone, it would take a small army of people day and night to get everything ready for a wedding in such a short amount of time. There was a landscape team that would be arriving a month before the wedding to prepare the yard. There was seating to be delivered, as well as the platform, tables for the reception, and the list went on and on until Katniss felt relieved that Effie was in charge of those countless details. Peeta and Effie had argued over the wedding cake, though. Effie wanted to have it made by some baker in the Capitol, then explained that it would have its own compartment on the train to be delivered carefully for the wedding. Peeta argued that he was better than any baker from the Capitol and could order any extra supplies he needed beforehand. Also, the cake wouldn't have to travel so far and therefore there would be less chance for something to go wrong.

"Plus," he added, "I _want_ to bake the cake."

He heard Effie sigh from the other end of the line and knew he had won the argument.

And so Peeta had been planning, spending late nights in their kitchen trying out different flavors of cake and icing. If Katniss was still awake, he asked her to taste his creations and tell him exactly what she liked and disliked. Katniss laughed to herself, hoping that her dress would still fit. It had been some weeks since Portia had visited and taken Katniss's measurements. So Katniss hiked more during the day, making her way along rocky ridges and tall hills, around streams she'd never seen, through glades that had grown and changed since last spring. She felt comforted that the forest was not a static thing, but a growing, living organism like herself. As she had changed, things around her had changed as well. She laughed one day, perched high in a tree, to think that there very likely would not be any wild game at the reception. She imagined Effie wrinkling her nose in disgust at squirrel or rabbit meat.

The bulldozers and other machines arrived early one morning, the strange noise and loud voices waking Katniss and Peeta from their slumber. It was warm, and so Katniss slid out from the covers, quite naked, and crossed the room to wrap a robe around her before peaking out the window. Peeta lay silent in bed, but she looked down to see that he was awake, the hint of smile playing on his face as he had watched her walk across the room naked. She narrowed her eyes at him, but couldn't hold back a grin as she peered through the blinds. There were men in hardhats directing the equipment in the tiny space between houses. Some Victor's Village residents had been awakened as well, and Katniss saw several of her neighbors out watching the whole spectacle in various forms of dress.

"It's the landscaping team," Katniss told Peeta as she looked out the window. "But it looks more like a demolition team to me." Peeta's deep laugh made something not altogether unpleasant twist in her belly.

After Katniss and Peeta had both gotten dressed, they headed down to the back yard to meet with all of the workers. A tall man in a hardhat greeted them immediately with a brisk nod and firm handshakes for them both. He unrolled a few sketches to show them.

"Now this," he said, pointing first to the sketch, then out to the far end of the large yard, "Is where the main platform is going to be constructed." Peeta and Katniss both nodded.

The landscaping director – Effie had given him that title – was named Graff, and he continued to show Katniss and Peeta the basic layout of the land. There would be rows of flowers around both perimeters, along with large privacy hedges behind the flowerbeds. Trees were going to be planted around the platform to offer shade, and – Katniss mused sarcastically – because Effie didn't figure there were already enough trees, what with the yard being bordered by the forest. But Katniss did not want to argue with the large man in front of her. A few fountains and pathways later and Katniss was ready to leave the crew to do their work before she started grumbling about how excessive it all was.

Peeta discussed a few extra details with Graff while Katniss politely dismissed herself back into the house. She felt a twinge of remembrance as she thought back to that day, well over a year ago, when she had wandered into town, catching sight of Peeta. She looked back over her shoulder as she walked up the back step and saw him standing there with Graff, going over the sketches. It was the same scene, except this time she didn't shy away from his gaze as he looked up and sent a smile her way.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N:** Sorry guys, I got caught up in the astronomical event of Venus's transit across the sun yesterday evening and didn't get a chance to finish this chapter until today! Anyway, here it is, it's my longest chapter yet! There is more planning and then...you'll just have to wait and see! It's getting very near the end of *this* story, and before anyone freaks out I put the asterisks by it because there WILL be a sequel/companion piece. This is not the last chapter, though, so no tears yet! Anyway, thank you SO much for all of the awesome reviews and comments and messages. May the story go on! :)

* * *

Katniss climbed the tree carefully, her feet pressed against the trunk, her boots scraping against the thick bark. She didn't need a broken wrist or ankle three days before her wedding ceremony, so she took her time to reach the large branch. Once she pulled herself up, she spread out along its length, resting her belly and legs on the base of the branch and wrapping her arms around it. Her chin scraped against the bark as she rested her head against the tree branch, letting out a long sigh. She had been forced to escape the chaos that was her house ever since Effie had arrived a week prior, along with Portia. The landscaping team – or demolition crew as Katniss called them – had left shortly after Effie approved of their work. Katniss was sure the residents of the Victor's Village were quite pleased that the noisy workers were gone. Peeta had fielded complaints about the noise and had to struggle with Graff to make sure the workers didn't start at the crack of dawn every morning. The shorter hours meant the work took longer, but Graff had begrudgingly agreed after Peeta assured the burly man that their pay would be the same, as well as extra for the additional days of work.

Effie had arrived and pranced about the yard, looking so diminutive next to Graff that it was almost comical. Her bright pink outfit looked out of place next to all the workers, but Effie didn't seem to mind. She inspected the lawn, sniffed every flower (at least it seemed that way to Katniss), tugged on leaves, and attempted to spy through the privacy hedges. She seemed to be satisfied with their work, and Katniss was glad. The crew had left the next day, taking their machines with them.

Katniss's house was reduced to a small trail from the kitchen to the stairs. Every other space was covered in decorations, tulle, strings of lights, ribbons, and boxes. Boxes that overflowed with things whose purpose Katniss could only begin to imagine. Luckily, it seemed as if everything had arrived, and to Effie's standard, which was a small miracle in itself. So a week after being kept captive in her own house with Effie and a team of assistants while Peeta went off to the bakery, Katniss escaped. She waited until Peeta left just past dawn for the bakery, then slipped out of bed and threw on her hunting clothes and boots, grabbing her pack and bow and quiver from her closet – it had been moved from the downstairs hall closet to make room for more boxes. She knew that Effie and her team, as efficient as they all were, would be at least another hour or so before arriving. And so Katniss slipped out her back step, and came face to face with a rather drunk Haymitch.

"All this…" His voice slurred just a bit, but she could tell he was on the edge of swaying where he stood. Katniss knew he'd most likely been up all night drinking. "It isn't just redecorating, is it?" He gave her a knowing look. Katniss was silent, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Effie Trinket has been here three times since the…the ribbon-cutting thingy," He said, waving the hand that wasn't holding his flask back and forth.

It had been hard to not let anything slip with Haymitch around. He was rather nosy, and when Effie was in town, he had made sure to stop by for dinner more than once. And quite sober on several occasions. Effie had been tight-lipped though, explaining away her visit as some vague business from the Capitol. Haymitch didn't buy it, though he just narrowed his eyes at her as Effie laughed it off nervously.

"I know you two," he had said, looking from Katniss to Peeta, "you _three_," he added, looking to Effie, "are up to something."

"My my, this roast is absolutely delicious," Effie had said to Katniss, changing the subject. Peeta spoke up then, lauding Greasy Sae's talents in the kitchen.

Of course Greasy Sae knew there was going to be a wedding ceremony. She had figured it out as soon as the packages started arriving. She hadn't asked questions, though. No, the next time she was over for dinner with Katniss and Peeta, she made it known that she knew.

"Now look, I know what you two are doing," Greasy Sae stated, her arms crossed over her chest as she stood at the kitchen counter. "Don't try and tell me it's some project or redecorating or whatnot." So she'd heard what Peeta had told the curious townsfolk.

Greasy Sae scowled for a moment, while Katniss and Peeta stayed silent. She saw the looks on their face, like two scolded children, and then she broke out into one of her craggy smiles.

"I'm not angry with you," she stated, a hint of laughter in her voice. "I am happy for you two," she said, her smile growing wider. "I just don't want to be lied to, that's all."

And so they had agreed to not lie to her, so long as she kept the event a secret. And so far she hadn't let it slip. And so Katniss stood on her back step early that morning, three days before her elaborate wedding ceremony, and wondered that Haymitch hadn't figured it out sooner.

"Y'all were sneaky," Haymitch said, "having a toasting and reception and getting a marriage license…" Katniss gave her former mentor a smirk.

"But I know a wedding when I see it," he said, taking a swig from his flask and wiping his mouth off on the edge of his shirtsleeve. "And Effie told me," he added, smiling.

"Effie?" Katniss asked, walking past her former mentor and toward his house, hoping he would follow. Haymitch took a few strides to catch up.

"Yep," he nodded as they walked back toward his house. "She spilled the beans last visit. Of course I had to liquor her up a bit…" His voice trailed off and Katniss could only imagine the bubbly woman intoxicated with Haymitch. How he had convinced Effie to spend time with him, Katniss really didn't want to know.

"Oh she did?" Katniss asked, grinning. "And why are you only _now_ coming to me with this? _Three_ days before my wedding." Katniss said in a steely tone.

Haymitch laughed nervously, and Katniss strongly suspected that he was staying as far away from being put to work as possible. She almost laughed aloud, imagining Effie bossing Haymitch around in a sea of tulle and glitter.

"Well, I'm here _now_, and that's what matters," Haymitch said gruffly after a pause. Katniss had a suspicion that Effie had put him up to this. She was tempted to look around, thinking she might find the woman spying on them from behind a hedge.

"Alright, what is it then?" Katniss asked, resting her hands on her hips. They were standing in front of Haymitch's house, and Katniss peaked down the lane to make sure she still had time to make a clean getaway.

"I just wanted to ask…" He started, his voice gruff but soft, "who is going to walk you down the aisle."

Katniss felt genuine surprise spread across her features. She didn't know what she had expected him to say. That the wedding was frivolous, that they didn't need it. That he didn't want to be bothered to be any part of it, unless there was enough booze involved. But to ask, in a roundabout way, if he could walk her down the aisle? She supposed he knew more about elaborate wedding ceremonies than she did. Surely there were victors he knew that had gotten married in the Capitol. And Katniss knew from all of Effie's planning that Peeta would be waiting for her at the platform. She thought she remembered her mother talking about her own wedding, how her father – Katniss's grandfather – had walked her down the aisle. A sharp ache pierced her heart to think that her own father, gone for so many years now, had missed so much of her life. Katniss new the pang was also one of bitter joy that Haymitch was willing to be there for her, even though it had involved coaxing from Effie.

"You don't have to cry about it," Haymitch told her, and Katniss realized there were indeed tears in her eyes. "I mean, I was just going to offer…"

Katniss didn't care if he was drunk, if his clothes smelled of sweat and liquor and vomit. She swallowed back a sob and lunged toward her former mentor, enveloping him in a hug. She felt him tense and let out a noise of surprise, but then his body relaxed and she felt his arms wrap around her. He patted her back clumsily, and she could feel the metal flask bounce off her as he clutched it in one hand. She pulled back after he cleared his throat and she sniffed loudly. Katniss couldn't help but laugh at the entire situation.

"Of course you can walk me down the aisle, Haymitch," she said, smiling. "Just don't be late!" She called out after him as she headed down the lane and toward the woods.

She looked back over her shoulder and saw Haymitch standing in his front yard, muttering to himself. He raised his flask and shook it at her in what might have been a wave – or an obscene gesture, Katniss wasn't sure – but she waved back anyway as she strolled down the lane.

And so she found herself perched up in a tree that day, three days from her wedding, avoiding Effie. She imagined the woman going berserk when she realized Katniss wasn't at home and almost laughed, though Effie's rage wasn't always funny. Her thoughts then turned to her wedding guests. Of course the whole town knew there was going to be a party at the Mellark's in three days. Katniss couldn't hide it forever, especially if she wanted to give people enough notice to attend. But Peeta had told everyone that it was a summer party, a party to show off their new garden. Katniss thought the whole thing sounded ridiculous, but coming from Peeta – his golden hair shining, his grin genuine, an honest sparkle in his blue eyes – it was almost believable. The townsfolk that were invited – and it ended up being just about the entire town since Peeta seemed to know them all by name – stopped asking as many questions or grumbling, so there was peace in the district.

Cressida, along with Messalla, Pollux, Loge and Mara had arrived the day before on an evening train and had been surveying the manicured lawn behind Katniss and Peeta's house for the best camera angles. Of course Katniss and Peeta were expected to give short interviews, but Cressida had planned most of that for after the wedding. The townsfolk seemed thrilled with the idea that they would be on camera again at the garden party, and Katniss knew those curious folk had brought more business to the bakery. At least the inquiring parties were kind enough to buy a cookie or a cupcake or a loaf of bread after asking Peeta questions while he worked at his bakery, instead of just taking up his time unnecessarily. Most were just happy to have something to look forward to, like the Harvest Festival or Election Day. Without the overbearing presence of the old government, the yearly Reaping Day or Victory Tour stop, there weren't many big events. Katniss was glad she could give back to the District, even if it was in such a selfish way.

Of course she had explained to Effie that she had to hunt, at least a few hours a day, and deliver the game to Greasy Sae and others in the district, or else it would look suspicious.

"But they think it's a wonderful summer garden party, my dear!" Effie said, each word becoming more and more high-pitched. "Of course you're going to be busy getting everything together for that. No one will be suspicious." And that was how Katniss became confined to her house for the past week.

She didn't intend on staying in the woods long, but her wandering mind got away from her. Beyond all the townsfolk that were attending, there was her mother and Annie from District Four. And while her mother had promised to take off some time to visit, as it got closer and closer to June, Katniss realized that her mother wouldn't stay away from the medic facility for that long.

"It's ok," Katniss told her mother one night on the phone. "Just so long as you're here for the ceremony, that's all I care about."

And so the older woman was set to arrive that very night, along with Annie and little Finn. They would be leaving the day after the ceremony to head back to District Four, but Katniss did not want to think about that. Instead, her stomach did a flip when she thought about who else was attending – and who _wasn't_. She had given Effie orders many weeks back to invite Hazelle and her children. Katniss still had the letter she had received from Hazelle, who had been delighted over the news and the invitation to the wedding. Katniss had skimmed through the letter the first time, looking for a familiar name. Hazelle reported that she would be attending, along with Rory, Vick, and Posy. She saw Gale's name and her heart skipped a beat. Hazelle apologized for him, but explained that he had to work and would not be able to attend. Part of Katniss was relieved, yet part of her wanted to tear up the letter in anger. He had been such a big part of her life for so long, and now he was gone. He had found his wings, Katniss mused, and had flown off to District Two while she was stuck in Twelve. She hadn't invited Beetee, she realized then. Or at least she had forgotten to ask Effie to invite the victor. She doubted that the man would come anyway, but she still felt a pang, and she wasn't quite sure if it was from relief or from guilt.

She let the bark on the tree branch scrape her chin, thinking about Hazelle and her children, her mother, Annie and little Finn, and all the others who were set to arrive over the next few days. She knew her prep team would be arriving on the same train as her mother and Annie, and imagined the animated group as they once had been – talking about the latest parties, the newest gadgets, who and what was in style, and what was out. But she also remembered Coin torturing them, little Posy comforting a skittish Octavia. Katniss suddenly remembered the pink tresses adorned with tiny light-up mice Octavia had sported at one point, and she couldn't help but think of what a scared little mouse Octavia had seemed in District Thirteen. Life was cruel, Katniss knew that all too well, but she hoped the prep team wouldn't hold it against her. At least they had agreed to come.

Effie was not happy when Katniss finally returned home that day, the sun high up in the sky. Katniss zoned out as Effie chided her, thinking of the primrose bushes blooming out front, the way a soft breeze had blown through the trees and cooled her walk back home. Katniss had wanted to meet her mother at the station that evening, but Effie put her to work instead.

"I've sent a car for your mother, Miss Cresta - I mean Mrs. Odair - and her son, and another for the prep team." Effie stated, her jaw set tight, thought Katniss could have sworn she saw the woman's mouth tremble when she had corrected herself. "I assure you, there's no need to go to the station, they will arrive here just fine."

Katniss had sighed and continued to work on the project Effie had assigned her to – folding pale green napkins in an elaborate pattern. Katniss was accustomed to little tasks similar to that, though, ever since Effie had arrived a week earlier, and so she only grumbled slightly as Effie worked to straighten up the boxes in the living room. Katniss had to give Effie credit. As two dimensional as the woman seemed sometimes, she did truly care about the work that she set before herself. Every detail had to be perfect. And so far, things were going smoothly. Of course there had been minor hitches along the way, as when the green chairs had been delivered fifty short and in the wrong color.

"It's supposed to be 'Breath of Spring,'" Effie had yelled over the phone as the man who had delivered the chairs stood nearby, going over the invoice. "_Not_ whatever you sent me…this, this baby's vomit color!" Katniss had to cover her mouth not to laugh. But the color _did_ somewhat resemble Rye's throw up.

That had been straightened out, though, and a few days earlier the correct amount of chairs, in the correct shade of green, had been delivered. Peeta's empty house was currently being used as storage space, as it still was without occupants. Even with his empty house, a large weather-proof tent had been constructed to house what couldn't fit inside. It was mind-boggling to Katniss, and she was glad there would be a crew arriving to set everything up. All she had to do was suffer under the reign of Effie for a few more days, allow the prep team to wax and pluck and make her up, and then walk down the aisle to Peeta. She couldn't wait for the whole circus to be over.

Peeta stayed out of as much as he could, working long hours at the bakery. Effie did put him to work as well, though, much of the time he was home. Between ironing tablecloths and folding napkins and putting together decorative arrangements, Katniss and Peeta were exhausted by the time they fell into bed each night. Katniss would stay awake long enough to sink into his warmth before she would be unconscious, dreaming of her wedding dress becoming a monster and trying to eat her alive as she was wearing it. She knew Peeta was stressed as well.

A week before the wedding, he had his first flashback in months. At first Katniss thought he had simply gone silent. It had been after dinner one evening, Effie ordering them about in their claustrophobic living room. Katniss had a pair of large scissors in her hand, cutting the tulle as Effie had instructed her. She wasn't watching where she was snipping, though, and caught the edge of her finger. She let out a small noise of pain as a bright red drop of blood beaded up on her index finger.

"Oh dear," Effie had said when she saw the blood, "you must be more careful! Wouldn't want to stain this lovely tulle…"

Katniss knew something was wrong when Effie's voice trailed off, and she looked over to see Peeta clutching the edge of the coffee table, his face contorted in rage. It had been so long since his last flashback that she had almost forgotten how alarming his features looked during an attack. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, but then she noticed Effie moving closer.

"No Effie," Katniss said quickly, standing up and moving to block her. "It's ok. He gets like this sometimes. Just go to the kitchen, alright?" She tried to sound gentle, but she meant it as an order. Effie left for the kitchen without protest, though, a look of fear on her face.

Peeta's lips were quivering into a grimace, and she could tell he was holding back hateful words or some terrible scream. His muscles were tense as his hands grabbed the coffee table, and Katniss carefully cleared the area of all sharp objects. She then made her way behind the couch, climbing over boxes and pushing things out of the way to reach him. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her cheek against the back of his neck. And for several long moments she just held him, and sang. The words came to her so easily now, she didn't know why she hadn't been singing every moment since Peeta had confessed his love to her. She channeled all her feelings of hope and love into the song and prayed that her voice wouldn't break.

It didn't. Peeta's body relaxed slowly, and she kept singing, repeating the entire song before he finally let out a long sigh. She kissed the back of his neck softly, and his hands captured hers where they were wrapped around him. Effie poked her head back in from the kitchen, the look of fear gone once she saw the two embracing.

"Oh my," she said loudly as she tiptoed back into the living room, maneuvering around boxes and decorations. "I'm glad everyone's ok." Katniss had completely forgotten about her bleeding finger, but it seemed to have stopped, a few droplets of blood staining her shirt.

Since then, there had been no more flashbacks, and Katniss prayed that he wouldn't have one on their wedding day. Effie offered Peeta a handful of tiny pink pills she pulled from her purse, to "calm the nerves" she explained, but he refused politely.

The morning of her wedding, Effie dragged a bleary-eyed, groaning Katniss out of bed near dawn and steered her to the shower. Katniss thought she heard Effie ordering Peeta out of bed as the bathroom door closed, and she couldn't help the smirk that crossed her features. At least he wasn't getting to sleep in either. After a warm shower, she greeted her yawning prep team downstairs. Effie had worked a miracle in the past few days, and her living room looked almost back to normal. The boxes and spools of ribbon and lights and other decorations were gone, either in their proper place or in the rubbish heap on the opposite end of town. Katniss had thought it would take a small army to return her house to its former appearance, but Effie's crew of a few diligent workers had done it. Katniss smiled to see her mother already awake, standing in the corner of the room. She had arrived on schedule a few days prior, along with Annie and Finn, and the prep team. She was staying with Katniss and Peeta in her old room, and Annie and Finn were staying in the bedroom that once belonged to Prim. Unspoken grief surrounded them all, but it was easier to share a warm embrace and a knowing look than unleash the torrents that trembled beneath. This was a happy occasion, and there were smiles aplenty and enough laughter to fill all the holes in Katniss's heart. She missed Prim, and it hurt to know that the kindhearted girl with searching eyes wouldn't be there, would never get married. But Katniss knew that Prim would be happy for her. She would have loved to see her older sister get married, but Katniss knew that she also wouldn't want her older sister to be sulking, especially on the day that Effie claimed was "the happiest day in a girl's life!" _That's funny_, Katniss thought, _I thought the happiest day in a girl's life was winning the Hunger Games._

She kept her mouth shut, though, and let the team do their magic with creams and tweezers and sprays and glosses. Venia and Flavius and Octavia were as animated as ever, even if their fashions were subdued. Octavia's skin was its natural shade and her hair was its own warm auburn, and Katniss made sure to compliment her. Octavia beamed at the compliment, her plump cheeks turning a pale pink. Venia still wore her locks in bright aqua, but instead of spikes, she had a nice bob. Flavius had his customary corkscrew orange curls, but the purple lipstick had been replaced by a more natural light mauve. They had greeted Katniss so warmly when they had arrived, their arms wrapping around her in tight hugs, each of them expressing their genuine sorrow over all that had taken place. Of course they had twittered on about things Katniss thought purely superfluous – how the price of fake nails had nearly doubled, how the new government was implementing taxes on certain harmful treatments and body modifications, how boring life in the Capitol had become – but Katniss forgave them, and played along, showing an almost comical amount of outrage at their hardships and delving out "poor yous" and "how terribles" where needed.

Octavia had cried to see the extent of Katniss's scars. Flavius had made a noise of disapproval and then set his jaw, declaring her skin their ultimate challenge. Her hair had grown thick and long since her return to District Twelve, and it seemed to be her saving grace among the prep team. Her nails, however, were met with scowls. And so the prep team had soaked her in special baths, sent her to bed with moisturizing mittens on her hands and socks on her feet, waxed every inch of her body other than her eyebrows and head, and applied special creams to her skin for the past few days. Though much of what they talked about was idle gossip, Katniss did learn quite a bit about how things were in the Capitol, under the new government. She asked them questions directly, having no fear of watching what she said. Of course she wouldn't put it past the new government to keep her house bugged, as she was a dangerous – and insane – criminal, after all. But she knew that the broadcast of her and Peeta at the ribbon-cutting ceremony had gone so well and been so popular in the Capitol that she was no longer considered a threat, but more of a hometown hero. Now if only they would lift the travel ban.

"Oh, it was wonderful!" Octavia exclaimed, recounting the ribbon-cutting ceremony. "You know, I didn't really care for their films of the other districts," she whispered, looking out of the corner of her eye at Cressida, who was going over notes with Messalla. "But I just_ had_ to watch the one for District Twelve when they announced you would be on!"

"You sang lovely," Flavius offered, staring down his nose at Katniss as he combed through her hair. "It was so…so…classic! The way everything looked, the children. It reminds me of the films from before the rebellion," he said, letting out a wistful sigh.

"I just cried when they interviewed you two!" Octavia exclaimed, her eyes looking a little misty at even mentioning it. "It was so sweet. And all that he went through…"

Octavia's voice broke and Katniss had to add a "there there" and pat Octavia's arm as she cried loudly. Katniss was reminded of the annoyance she had felt before the Quarter Quell, when she – thinking she was off to face certain death – had to comfort the prep team. But Katniss had forgiven them and their frivolity. They were like children who, raised under careless parents, acted the way they did not because they chose to, but because they knew no other way.

Octavia stopped crying once Portia brought in the gown. There were exclamations from all around, and Pollux filmed it all. Even Katniss couldn't hold back a wide grin. She remembered when the stylist had first arrived a week prior, the dress carefully concealed in a series of garment bags stowed in a metal trunk with lock and key. Katniss had nearly gasped, and Effie had – loudly – when Portia revealed the gown. Luckily, it had fit and needed only a few minor alterations. Portia had worked diligently, and now Katniss had to simply lift her arms for the dress to float down about her. And of course someone had to lace her up.

"I'm just going to hang this here while they finish," Portia said as she hung the gown on the banister, setting the shoes and headdress on the bottom step.

"Oh Katniss!" Octavia exclaimed and Katniss thought the girl was going to burst into tears all over again.

"You know how she escaped, don't you?" Venia asked in a whisper.

Octavia whirled around from where she had been staring at the dress to listen. Katniss shook her head. She hadn't heard about Portia's escape from the Capitol. Plutarch Heavensbee had informed her that all the stylists had been executed, and publicly, by orders from Snow. The news had hit Katniss hard, as she felt responsible for their deaths. Months later, she remembered hearing news that some of the stylists presumed dead had reemerged in the Capitol. She had been numb with grief over Prim's death at the time, and so the news seemed trivial. Only in the last few months had she truly realized what a feat it must have been, what a show President Snow must have put on to try to shake the very core of her being. There had been Peeta, captured by the Capitol, tortured, and then shown on TV to taunt her. Who had they dressed up to look like the stylists? Who had they truly murdered?

Venia explained to them how Portia and two other stylists had fled the Captiol, escaping to Portia's sister who lived in District 11. They had left everything behind, disquising themselves with the very costumes they had created for their Tributes. Katniss wasn't sure how much of the story was real and how much was exaggeration, but she knew she was relieved that Portia hadn't met the same fate as Cinna.

Annie climbed down the stairs a little while later, carefully avoiding the shoes and elaborate headpiece resting on the bottom step. Finn gazed about wide-eyed from his mother's arms and Katniss saw Finnick Odair's bright eyes staring back at her. Her mother took Finn gingerly from Annie, and the boy didn't protest. Katniss felt a pang to think that her mother had something of a new family now, in District Four. Annie blushed and apologized as she stepped around the prep team to make her way to the kitchen, and Katniss caught her eye and offered her a smile. Katniss knew the pain of loss. She knew the hungry claws of guilt that threatened to tear everything apart. But she didn't know what it was like to lose one's husband, one's soulmate. She didn't know what it was like to have a child who reminded her of that loss, needing her care every second of every day. Everything about little Finn, from the shade of his hair to his bright eyes reminded Katniss of Finnick. _It must be both a blessing and a curse_, Katniss thought from her perch on a stool in the middle of the living room.

"Oh the guests are arriving!" Effie exclaimed brightly, hours later. She kept running through the house, her team of assistants following her like ducklings. Katniss smiled at the thought, imagining them quacking at Effie instead of talking. It gave her something to watch and distracted her from the plucking and clippings and various other cosmetic treatments her prep team was torturing her with. She hadn't seen Peeta all day, and she was growing anxious. She longed for his kind smile, the hint of mischief in his blue eyes, his knowing looks. Her mother hovered over her most of the day, in much the same way as during the photo shoot from years earlier. Her nerves had affected her appetite, but Katniss's mother still forced down bites of food here and there, sips of water or tea every so often.

When it came time for Katniss to strip off the robe she was wearing and don her gown, her mother shooed out everyone but the prep team. Katniss refused to wear the complicated, constricting undergarments they brandished, stating that it was far too hot outside and no one wanted to see the bride pass out in the middle of the ceremony. The prep team argued with her, describing how the undergarments would hold everything in, in just the right way. Octavia bobbed her auburn head enthusiastically, touting the wonders of such underwear.

"Look at her," Katniss's mother finally stepped in, her voice taking on a gruff tone as she pointed to her naked daughter. "She doesn't _have_ anything that needs to be held in."

The prep team looked over Katniss for a long while, and she felt her neck and cheeks redden. They had seen her in various states of undress many times before, but it still unnerved her. She resisted the urge to cover herself with her arms and stared right back at them, her jaw set. They finally acquiesced, folding the constricting undergarments and putting them away. Portia entered the room and helped them lift the large gown. Katniss raised her bare arms to the ceiling as they carefully dropped the gown around her. She felt very much a child, but in a pleasant way, imagining that she was playing dress up. Despite all she had been through, despite having to grow up and take care of her mother and younger sister at such an early age, it still felt surreal to be someone's wife. She knew there were plenty of girls in her district that had gotten married and even had children at a much younger age than she had, but it was still hard to imagine. Perhaps because she had never imagined actually marrying anyone until Peeta Mellark came along. But it was really Gale who had first put the notion into her head.

She thought of their conversation from weeks prior. He had seen the letter from Hazelle one evening, and a look of something she couldn't quite place passed across his face. It might have been confusion, and pain. Or confusion and rage. But then his features went blank as he looked up at her.

"Is _he_ coming?" He asked, his voice oddly flat. She suspected that he was trying to hold back frustration, anger, maybe even jealousy.

She shook her head, and broke away from his gaze.

"Hazelle is coming, with the kids," she said, glancing at her fingernails as if they were the most interesting things in the entire world. "But not Gale," she had expected Peeta to wince at the sound of his name, or narrow his eyes, or something. But he was impressively calm. "It says so in the letter."

She glanced back up at him and nodded toward the envelope still clutched in his hand. He made no move to read the letter, though, and set it back down on the end table, never once taking his eyes off hers.

That had been a few weeks ago, but Katniss couldn't get the thought out of her head as she stood, the skirt of her dress cascading down around her legs. Portia was lacing up the dress, and Katniss was glad it was her, and not one of the prep team. She had the suspicion that they would be cinching it as tight as possible. But her prep team were busy straightening out the skirt, helping her into her white boots, and primping the veil that adorned her headdress. Still, Katniss's thoughts were on Peeta. He had apologized later that night, and she had quieted him with fervent kisses. There was no need to apologize for asking a question, but instead of telling him in words, she let her actions speak for her. She felt her cheeks grow crimson as she thought about the tender pleasures of that night, and was glad her face was covered in make up.

She could hear the din of voices from outside, and every so often a loud order from Effie. Surely the guests had caught on that it wasn't some garden party by now. She heard the sounds of car doors opening and slamming shut, the sounds of hundreds of footsteps and the scrapes of furniture and other things being dragged about. The reception was going to be held under a large tent that had been set up behind Peeta's old house, and had heard Effie happily mention earlier that the caterers had arrived with all of their equipment and food on the morning train. Then Effie – dressed in bright blues and greens and resembling a peacock – had run off to check on Peeta and the cake.

Katniss's heart thudded in her throat to think that in a few minutes she would be outside, walking down an aisle in front of nearly the entire district, plus some. She scanned the room, but her mother had disappeared to get ready. Flavius was busy sweeping half of her locks into a curling up-do, the rest of her hair cascading down her back in soft waves. She knew it was their attempt at covering most of her scars, but she didn't care. She just wanted to kiss Peeta and get the whole thing over with.

Katniss saw the tears well up in her mother's eyes when the older woman came back downstairs. Her mother was wearing a soft yellow dress that made her look younger, and Katniss could see the young woman from the old wedding photo that stood framed on the mantle. Of course her mother, from a wealthier family in town, had had an actual wedding ceremony, not just a toasting. How young and handsome her father looked in the picture. Katniss felt her eyes sting and the tears threaten.

"Oh no! No, no, no!" Effie chided when she saw Katniss and her mother both teary-eyed. "You must not ruin your makeup," Effie told Katniss, then steered Mrs. Everdeen toward the back door.

"You look lovely," Portia said, standing near the full-length mirror that was propped against the bookcase.

Katniss took stock of herself as Flavius stood on a footstool to pin the headpiece carefully in place. She almost didn't recognize herself. Portia's creation was breathtaking, and she knew that Cinna would have been happy with the design. The gown had a simple white bodice with a sweetheart neckline and dainty cap sleeves that strategically hid some of the scars on Katniss's shoulders. The waist was cinched in, but the tulle skirt spread out from there, full and long. It was breathtaking, made from layers and layers of the wispy fabric. Instead of solid white, there were pieces of pale green tulle throughout, breaking up the monotony of the gown. Leaves, fashioned out of lace and elaborate beadwork, spread out from the waist and covered the skirt like the forest's canopy. Katniss's headpiece was an old-fashioned hunting cap, fashioned from sturdy white felt. A large feather sprang from the cap, and a gossamer veil flowed down from it as well, pooling on the ground behind her. All in all, she looked like some fairytale huntress of old, as if she had walked out of the pages of some storybook and into District Twelve.

She hugged Portia quickly when Effie burst back into the house, announcing that it was time. The prep team scrambled to make sure every hair on Katniss's head was in place as she walked toward the back door. She enjoyed the feel of the soft leather boots that had been fashioned – fitting for a huntress bride – and was glad that she wouldn't have to struggle through the soft earth with heels.

"The bouquet, the bouquet!" Effie shouted as Katniss reached for the doorknob, holding her large skirt in the other hand. Venia ran back into the living room and returned with the bouquet. Katniss thought a bow and arrows would be more fitting for the whole huntress idea, but it _was_ a wedding. So she took the flowers in one hand and maneuvered the large skirt out the back door.

The bright sunlight blinded her for a moment, and she steadied herself on the railing of the back step. She blinked and only saw the crowd for a second and thought she heard a collective gasp of wonder. She then looked down to see Haymitch standing expectantly at the bottom step. He had combed back his hair and looked quite dapper for his age in his tuxedo. He held out his hand to help her down the last step and she took it, linking her arm in his.

"You look beautiful, kid," he leaned toward her and whispered, his breath oddly devoid of alcohol.

"Just don't let me fall in this huge thing," she whispered back through a smile that was plastered on her face. Haymitch chuckled and they started walking toward the aisle.

Katniss tried to ignore the crowd. Some sort of soft music was playing, but all she heard was the roar of quiet in her own ears. She kept reminding herself to smile as Effie had instructed her as she walked past rows and rows of staring eyes. Once she caught sight of Peeta waiting for her near the platform, she didn't have to force it. She felt her features grow more relaxed as a look of joy spread over her face. He was all that mattered. He was her warmth, her sun, and he was smiling back at her as if for the first time. His grin widened and he shook his head slightly, as if in disbelief, when she neared.

Katniss and Haymitch stopped at the end of the aisle, as they had rehearsed, and he gently unlinked his arm from hers. She turned toward her former mentor and didn't hesitate when she leaned forward and kissed his freshly shaven cheek. Then Haymitch was gone, and Peeta was beside her, his hand outstretched. Suddenly Effie appeared and relieved Katniss of the large bouquet. Katniss laced her fingers in Peeta's and they stepped carefully up on the platform, standing in front of the official. She chanced a look out at the crowd, who were now seated, then looked back at Peeta. The official started reading out of a small book in a deep voice and despite the intricate cooling systems that had been installed to insure the outdoor ceremony was bearable, everything felt hazy to Katniss. She felt as if she were merely dreaming the whole thing. She felt the colors swin around her in a blur and sounds become a distant hum. Like the first time she took morphling. The only real thing was the feel of Peeta's two hands holding hers, anchoring her to the earth. She breathed deeply and focused on him – his blond hair styled perfectly, his blue eyes bright in the sun. He squeezed her hands tighter until he let go, the official handing him a set of rings. She vaguely remembered saying vows. Peeta slipped the band on her fourth finger, the cold metal feeling soothing against her sweating skin. She prayed that she wouldn't fumble as she then slipped a ring on his finger. The bright metal slipped on smoothly, and they resumed holding hands. The official seemed to say something louder, and then Peeta was leaning forward slowly. Katniss closed the distance between them and their lips met. She kissed him urgently, her hands pulling away from his to wrap around his neck as he slipped his arms around her waist. He pulled away after a few moments, though, and that's when Katniss heard the raucous cheering from the audience.

The official announced them and Katniss noticed that Pollux had been standing near, filming the entire time. She looked back toward the crowd as she and Peeta started down the platform carefully and saw her mother, Annie holding a sleeping Finn, Greasy Sae, Haymitch, and Effie all smiling from the front row. Effie leaned forward and returned the bouquet of flowers to Katniss. Everyone was standing and cheering and the rest of the crowd was just a blur of faces as Katniss and Peeta walked swiftly down the aisle, hand in hand. Katniss was just thinking about how glad she was that she hadn't fainted when she saw a familiar figure standing behind the last row of seats. She froze, and Peeta stopped quickly beside her.

His gray eyes narrowed, his arms folded across his chest, Gale Hawthorne stood there glowering at the couple, an all too tangible apparition.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N:** Here it is folks, Chapter 32! And sadly, this_ is_ the last chapter to this story. Don't worry, I'm not done with Katniss and Peeta yet! There _will_ be a sequel, so be on the look out for it! I hope you enjoy this chapter (and I'm so glad all of you liked the last chapter. It took me a while to write, as did this chapter). Thanks to all my readers and reviewers - you have been an amazing audience, more than I could have ever imagined! This has been a wondrous experience, writing this fanfiction. Two months ago, when I started the first draft of chapter one, I never would have thought it would become this 32 chapter labor of love. Thank you again for reading, and enjoy!

* * *

He looked worn, and older. It had only been about a year and a half since she had last seen him – in person at least – but it seemed like a lifetime had passed. He still had the same gray eyes – almost exact mirrors of her own – with a fire raging beneath. The same dark hair and olive skin. But there was something else, Katniss noticed, something that hadn't been there when they had both been mere children hunting the woods together. She had seen it in him, smoldering there beneath the surface before the Quarter Quell, until it had flickered and risen to burning during their time together in District Thirteen and throughout the Rebellion. She had turned to him for comfort then, though, when Peeta had been taken, and so she had consciously looked past the change in him. It had only been after Prim's death that she knew they were too alike – and altogether too different – to be together.

When she had seen Gale off to the side, at the end of the aisle, she had at first been shocked. Anger had quickly welled up inside of her though, and she had been glad when Peeta – who had stopped just as abruptly as she had – tugged on her arm and pulled her past the brooding man. All eyes had been on Peeta and Katniss, and she knew that it was better to not create a scene. She had turned her head, and caught Gale's eyes following her. He made no move to follow, though, and was soon swallowed up by the crowd leaving their seats and heading to the reception area.

Katniss had pulled away from Peeta near the edge of the tent, determined to find Gale. Luckily, Effie was striding forth in her spiked heels, her crew of assistants following closely behind.

"No, no, my dear," Effie said, grabbing Katniss's wrist. "It's time for pictures." She announced.

Katniss scowled, feeling her anger boil up inside of her. How dare he show up like that, unannounced? Peeta came to stand beside Effie though, and the sight of his blue eyes calmed her. His blond hair falling over the scars on his forehead – so similar to hers – and the pleading look on his face were the undoing of the tempest of rage she felt at that moment. She let out a long sigh and nodded at Effie. Effie seemed greatly relieved as she directed the couple back toward the manicured lawn, and Katniss realized that Effie had not been so oblivious as to not notice the tension Gale's appearance had caused. Katniss felt Peeta lace his fingers in hers and she let the reassuring warmth of his hand comfort her.

The crowd was being herded underneath the large tents by Effie's group of assistants as Katniss, Peeta, and Effie headed back toward the beautifully landscaped yard. Haymitch, as well as Katniss's mother, caught up with them. The older woman wore a look of concern on her face, but kept silent. Haymitch gave Katniss a long look and opened his mouth to say something, but went quiet after a menacing scowl from Effie. Katniss thought she saw Gale in the crowd, surrounded by Hazelle and his siblings, as well as some of the locals that had once been friends. She realized she had stopped to look more closely when she felt Peeta tug gently on her hand. Then her prep team descended on her, fussing over wayward strands of hair, the positioning of her headdress and veil, and Katniss lost sight of Gale. Though Peeta's presence had calmed her, she still felt anger and frustration at war with the happiness she was supposed to be feeling. With her emotions in chaos, she slowly felt herself slip into the numbness she knew all too well. She was vaguely aware of smiling for the camera as she stood next to Peeta. Then she was being repositioned by Mara, while her prep team straightened her full skirt and long veil for another set of photos. Her mother posed beside her, then Haymitch – grumbling the entire time – and Katniss blinked furiously between the bright flashes. And then Peeta came to stand beside her once more. Effie was telling him something loudly, but before Katniss could process what had been said, he was leaning forward to kiss her for the camera.

His warm lips touched hers and she suddenly felt the tension leave her body. The numbness that had taken over her thoughts and emotions slowly drifted away as well. She was somewhat aware of the camera flashes, but as the kiss deepened, she soon forgot she had an audience. Her hands gripped Peeta's arms, feeling the hard curve of muscle through the tuxedo. His hands were pressed into the small of her back and she had the sudden need to feel skin on skin. She slipped her hands inside his jacket and felt him shudder slightly as she clutched at the soft silk of his waistcoat. Her fingers found the buttons, but then she heard the collective sound of several people clearing their throats, and she pulled away slowly from Peeta, her cheeks burning.

"I think that's enough photos for now," Effie announced, giving Katniss a look. "Let's head back to the reception, shall we?" She said as more of an order than a question.

Katniss's mother walked nearby as they marched back across the lawn and toward the tents.

"You didn't think he'd come, did you?" She asked her daughter quietly. Katniss turned quickly to look at the older woman.

"No…" Katniss admitted. "Hazelle wrote me and said she was coming, with Rory and Vick and Posy. But she said Gale was busy with work." Her mother gave her a reassuring look.

"I'm sure that's what he told them," Katniss's mother replied. "Hazelle looked quite surprised to see him here as well."

Katniss was suddenly relieved that she hadn't been the only one surprised by Gale Hawthorne's appearance. At least she now knew that Hazelle hadn't misinformed her on purpose, though Katniss knew the older woman was beyond such deceit. Her eldest son, on the other hand, was a different case altogether. Whatever purpose was behind his visit, Katniss longed to know. If he was there to stop the marriage, he was a few weeks too late. But the look in his eyes, as tempestuous as it had been, had not been one that foreboded an altercation – at least on his part. And he had been swept up into the crowd, greeting his bewildered family and other acquaintances with a steely smile. He hadn't sought her out yet, but Katniss knew she wouldn't be able to avoid him for the rest of the day. And part of her didn't want to.

Katniss sat with Peeta, her mother, Annie and Finn, Haymitch, and Sae at a table near the front of the tent. She felt relief to get off her shaky legs and was glad that Portia had dressed her in boots with only a hint of a heel instead of a pair with more height. She would surely have teetered and fallen by now had her balance not been intact. She watched Effie running around – in four-inch heels no less – like a chicken with its head cut off, her team of assistants following dutifully, and couldn't help but laugh. Peeta gave her hand a squeeze and laughed too. It was then that Katniss realized how well Peeta was handling everything. From the lavish ceremony in front of hundreds to Gale's sudden appearance to the bright flashes of light from cameras, he had not once grimaced or neared the verge of having a flashback. Katniss smiled to herself. Either he had given in and taken one of Effie's little pink pills, or he was just that strong.

Peeta was looking off, probably continuing to watch Effie, and so Katniss took full measure of him. He looked quite handsome in the formal black suit. Underneath he wore a soft green waistcoat and matching, patterned tie atop his crisp, white shirt. It was then that she noticed the cluster of pink evening primrose blooms pinned near his lapel. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment before she swallowed hard, holding back tears.

"Katniss…?" Peeta asked softly, his gaze back on her.

"You're wearing…" Katniss started, nodding her head toward the blooms on his jacket. She couldn't say the word though.

"Yeah…" He replied, reaching up to touch the delicate flowers. "Effie had some other thing for me to wear, but I told her no. I hope it's alright…" He added quickly, searching her face.

Katniss nodded, a few tears escaping as she leaned forward to kiss him. She pulled back and smiled, letting out a laugh at the thought of being a weepy bride.

"Are _you_ ok, Peeta?" She asked earnestly, her face close to his. Their gazes were locked, and she could see something dark flicker in his brilliant blue eyes. His bright smile was hiding whatever he was truly feeling.

And it was then that Katniss was reminded for the thousandth time why she needed Peeta, why she had chosen him over Gale. Peeta was selfless, kind and loyal, always putting her above anyone else, even himself. He loved her fiercely, unconditionally, despite the torture he had been through, despite all he had lost. He didn't blame her for what had happened, and had forgiven her for her uncertainty, for leading him on for so long. There was true strength in Peeta that few had, that had allowed him to overcome the hijacking – the false memories, the distorted reality – and grow into someone quite amazing.

She remembered a conversation from a few months back, late one night after their passion had been sated. Apart from whispered "I love yous," Katniss was usually quiet after, reveling in his warmth before drifting off to sleep. But that night, she had been tracing patterns on his neck, the pads of her fingers stroking his skin softly. She could see where his lifeblood pulsed strong and quick, and she touched the area gently. She looked up to find him watching her, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"How can you love me…?" She asked softly, voicing the thought that had been plaguing her for quite some time.

"What…?" He asked, somewhat incredulously. A look of confusion passed over his features and he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I mean, after all that happened," she cut him off quickly. "After the hijack– after what the Capitol did…" her voice trailed off and she was sure she was ruining the moment. She wasn't even sure she was explaining herself correctly.

"I just…sometimes it's just hard to understand how," she started again, her voice calmer and her tone more even. "How you could still love me…"

She paused and looked up at him, his eyes dark in the unlighted room. His features had turned from confused to thoughtful, and he was silent for quite some length of time before he responded.

"It's different…" He started finally. He looked her in the eye, then his gaze flitted to the ceiling. "At first, I had these memories – false memories, of course. It was difficult. Difficult to be around you." He continued to focus on the ceiling as he spoke, his voice even. She felt a pang in her chest to think back to when he had been rescued from the Capitol. "Difficult to be around" was an understatement.

"But once I learned more – about how things really had been, about you – it got easier. Talking to people who knew you – Delly, Johanna – that really helped. And then the doctors started the reversal therapy…." He paused, and Katniss waited quietly. He glanced down and met her gaze again, smiling. His arm was around her, holding her close, and so she rested her head on his chest as he continued.

"The reversal therapy, it didn't exactly reverse things," he was saying. "More like it gave me a clean slate. Like all those bad feelings the Capitol planted in me were gone. For the most part, anyway." He added.

"So before they sent me back here, to District Twelve, I kind of had to relearn things. I watched the tapes of the games and the Victory Tour and the Quarter Quell, and that helped. Much of my memory came back – true memories – but it's different." He said again. "It's like remembering things that happen in a story. Like watching someone else's life." He paused. "Does any of this make sense?"

Katniss nodded, her head bobbing against his chest.

"But I came back." He continued. "And there you were, next door, and I wanted to do something for you…so I planted the primroses. And you looked so fragile – and lost – when I saw you…"

Katniss remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. Sitting in the rocking chair, oblivious to the world, wearing the same clothes she had returned from the Capitol in. And yet there had been the sound of a shovel scraping the dirt, and it had pulled her out of the oblivion. Seeing him there had frightened her, and at the same time it had made her nervous in a different way. And the primroses. Those had broken the dam she had built, had torn down the walls she had constructed to house her grief. It was then that she had slowly begun to heal. And it had been the start of something between them.

"I know I loved you before…" He was saying. She could tell he was searching carefully for the right words. "But it's like that Peeta was someone else. I mean, I know it was me, but I just had to start all over…only, it's like breathing," he said, his voice growing more animated.

"It was as easy as breathing, Katniss, falling in love with you all over again. It's like, even if I am a new person, I can't help it. No matter what, it'll always be you." He said, burying his face in her hair and breathing deeply of its scent. Katniss pressed her lips against his chest, felt her forehead resting against his neck.

And like that she started crying. She had closed her eyes when he had started to explain, and the tears were escaping as she let out quiet sobs against the crook of his neck. He kissed the top of her head as one strong hand stroked her hair. She thought it cruel, that whatever being, whatever fate controlled the universe saw fit to have him love her no matter what. Even if she had chosen Gale over him, she knew that Peeta would still love her like he always had. But at the same time, his love for her was the greatest gift. Despite what he had been through, despite his fractured memories, he loved her. And she knew then and there, clinging to him in the dark, that if his memories had been wiped clean, if he had been sent back to District Twelve and had met her for the first time, he would still have fallen in love with her.

"I'm fine," he said, and Katniss was jolted from her thoughts back to the present – their wedding day. "As long as you're okay…" He added.

And Katniss realized that he had been thinking solely of her all day. That the reason he hadn't given in to his demons was because he was too worried about her to think of himself. She would never have had that kind of devotion from Gale, she realized, and so she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his once more. And this time, it was a lingering kiss.

"I'm ok," she whispered. _As long as you're beside me_, she thought.

And so she fell into the role of the bride flawlessly. She took her place, smiling, near Peeta as he stood in front of the crowd, giving an eloquent speech. He thanked the guests for coming, made a few jokes that were met with warm laughter, and then announced Katniss as "Mrs. Mellark" to the sound of deafening applause. Katniss was caught off guard when Peeta looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to address the crowd as well. Effie stood near the edge of the tent, mouthing the words "say something" enthusiastically. So Katniss took a deep breath and thanked the crowd briefly, and looking toward Effie out of the corner of her eye, Katniss thanked the older woman for planning the event. Katniss turned to clap for Effie and the crowd cheered loudly. Effie waved it off with feigned modesty, but Katniss could see the delight in the older woman's eyes. Shortly after they returned to their seats, a meal was served. Katniss ate the food, though she hardly thought about the taste.

After servers dressed in dark pants and white cotton shirts cleared the dinner plates from the table, Katniss rose to admire the cake that Peeta had so skillfully created. It stood near the front of the tent on a table to itself. There was tier after tier of cake, covered in pale green icing. Clusters of white and pink and soft orange flowers seemed to grow and bloom right out of the side of the tall structure. There were white leaves drawn on the cake as well, mirroring the lace leaves on Katniss's gown. How Peeta had seen the fabric to mimic it on the dessert was beyond her, as the gown had been kept under lock and key since its arrival. She gave him a look, but he just smiled back innocently. Cameras flashed and Pollux stood nearby, filming, as they cut the cake, wrapping their arms around each other's to feed each other a bite of the delicious treat.

Guests congratulated them throughout the reception. Katniss and Peeta were bombarded by friends, both old and new. Anabel gushed over Katniss's dress while Marc shifted Rye so that he could offer Peeta his hand for a firm shake. Delly Cartwright, who had made it all the way from District Thirteen, was as bright and bubbly as ever. She didn't even bat an eyelash when Katniss gathered her up in a tight hug. Delly just laughed cheerfully and chattered on, while Peeta gave Katniss a knowing look. Theo and Edda came to talk to the couple, and while Peeta was distracted, Katniss scanned the crowd for any sign of Gale. She caught sight of him standing near a table in the back, having an animated conversation with Thom and Leevy. Of course Gale and Thom had been friends, having worked on the same crew in the mines. Katniss imagined that they were catching up, and deep down she hoped that Thom wasn't trying to convince Gale to move back to the district. Leevy was blushing, and Katniss wasn't sure if it was from how close she was standing to Thom or from Gale's presence. Gale was laughing at something that had been said, and the feelings of rage that Katniss had thought dissipated began to manifest once more. She was two seconds away from lifting her skirts and stomping over to yell something at him when the music grew louder and an area was cleared out for a dance floor. She felt Peeta's hand slide into hers and she let him lead her to the center of the floor.

"You still ok?" He asked, their faces close as they danced together. She pressed her forehead to his cheek and let silence be her response.

Soon, other couples had joined them and the area filled up quickly. Little Posy had coaxed Vick to dance with her, and she smiled brightly as he scowled, Hazelle giving him a look when he tried to break away. Katniss saw Haymitch try to convince Effie to dance with him, but the older woman started protesting animatedly, most likely telling him she was too busy. Effie managed to slip away from Haymitch, but Katniss's mother greeted him with a smile and offered him her hand. Leevy and Thom were dancing near the edge of the crowd, and Katniss noticed how the usually reserved girl was practically floating across the floor. Annie sat at the table with Finn, feeding him little tastes of the icing. Katniss felt a pang of loss to think that Finnick should be there, dancing around the others, Annie in his arms. Mrs. Everdeen and Haymitch made their way back toward the table, though, and the older woman sat down, taking Finn in her lap. Annie shook her head when Haymitch held out his hand, but he continued to stand in front of her. She stood, smiling, after a moment, and began to dance with Haymitch. Katniss then caught sight of Gale, sitting near the back of the tent at a table by himself. They locked gazes, but he made no move toward her. Katniss buried her face in Peeta's neck and continued her slow movement around the dance floor.

After a few slow melodies, the music picked up into a more upbeat tempo. Katniss recognized the songs of the district, the fiddles and bass and other instruments. She remembered her mother and father showing her the steps to traditional dances when she was young. She had delighted in the quick movements and the swirl of her skirt. But that had been a long time ago, and she had to watch some of the older folks of the district dance before the steps came back to her. She winced as Peeta, clumsier with his prosthetic leg, stepped on her toes during some of parts of the dance. But she was breathless and laughing by the time the music changed tempo again and she collapsed into her chair, her gown billowing up around her.

It was dark by the time the crowd dispersed, most heading back toward town for the night. Katniss stood dutifully beside Peeta as they said their goodbyes to the departing guests with waves or handshakes or embraces. A few folks lingered later into the evening. There was Leevy, with a yawning Levan, who looked reluctant to part from Mayor Thom, who had a dreamy look on his face. Haymitch was seated with Marc and Theo and Rolf, having an animated conversation. Effie had finally sat down and was sipping a glass of wine and eating tiny bites from her piece of cake. The last Katniss had seen of Gale, he was talking with Cressida.

Peeta was thanking an older gentleman whose name escaped Katniss, when a pair of familiar gray eyes appeared in front of her. He towered over her and had a smile – no, more like a smirk – on his face that Katniss dearly wanted to rid him of.

"Hey Catnip," He said, his tone light and teasing. In the past, she might have smiled and teased him back. That night, she just frowned up at him.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him quietly, her tone taking on a sharp edge.

"What? Can't I come to my dear _cousin's_ wedding?" He teased again, a dark bite in his voice. He folded his arms across his chest, and that's when she took full stock of him, not having seen him in over a year and a half.

He did look worn, and older – tired lines on his face making him appear aged beyond his twenty-one years. Had he not been sleeping? Was it his new job that had been keeping him busy or was it simply the news of her marriage that had been keeping him awake? Katniss shook her head at him and mirrored his pose, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No bullying the bride…" A rather intoxicated Haymitch announced loudly as he stumbled up beside Katniss. He took a swig from his wine glass and narrowed his eyes at Gale.

"We were just having a civil conversation, weren't we, Katniss?" Gale said, an even wider smile spreading over his features. Katniss noticed that his normally olive cheeks were a slight shade of pink and realized he must have been drinking as well.

Katniss's frown deepened and she opened her mouth to snap back when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She turned slightly to see Peeta standing beside her and Haymitch. Peeta searched her face and she gave him a forced smile in return. Then he slid one arm around her waist and turned back toward Gale.

"A conversation?" Peeta asked brightly, looking from Gale to Katniss to Haymitch. "Well count me in, you know how much I love to talk…" Gale's smile faltered and Katniss saw the smoldering look from earlier return. _Could it be jealousy_, she asked herself.

Haymitch took another gulp of wine as they stood there quite awkwardly, Peeta with a fake smile plastered on his face, Gale with his stormy eyes, and Katniss scowling at them all. The tension between them was tangible, and Katniss was scared that any minute it would detonate like some sort of bomb. The sudden analogy that crossed her thoughts made the ache in her chest grow sharp and almost unbearable and she suddenly felt faint. She swayed where she stood, and luckily Peeta had an arm around her waist or he might not have been able to catch her in time. Gale and Haymitch saw her begin to collapse, and for a moment she thought that she would be caught in Gale's arms. But Peeta was closer, and faster, and wrapped his other arm around her and led her back to a chair. She felt better seated, though altogether foolish and weak for almost passing out. Her mother was quickly by her side, touching her forehead and asking her a barrage of questions as Peeta stood near her, protectively.

"I'm ok," she repeated over and over to her mother and Peeta. Gale stood close by, but didn't hover.

"I'll get you some water," Peeta said, bending down to kiss the top of her head. "I'll be right back," he told her as he sent a concerned look her way.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Her mother asked again. "You don't feel dizzy or lightheaded?"

"I'm ok," Katniss repeated herself. "And I feel fine sitting down."

Her mother gave her a worried look, but didn't ask any more questions. The older lady straightened up and turned to Gale.

"Gale." Katniss's mother said, inclining her head slightly in greeting. Her features were blank, though, Katniss saw as she looked up.

"Mrs. Everdeen," Gale replied, his voice deep and even. The pink was gone from his cheeks and Katniss wondered if he'd sobered. Gale and her mother eyed each other for a long moment before the older woman glanced back down at Katniss.

"I'm going to see about Annie and Finn," her mother said. The older woman then paused, as if to see if Katniss would protest. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I promise, I'm fine." Katniss said and gave her mother a forced half smile. The older woman smiled weakly back, then gave Gale a hard look. Katniss thought for a moment that her mother would threaten him, but the older woman just turned abruptly and headed toward the other side of the tent.

Katniss sighed, looking down at her feet instead of up to where Gale loomed above her. After a few seconds of silence, Gale pulled out a chair across from her and sat down. Katniss straightened up, pushing her long veil out of the way, and turned to face him. She reached up reflexively to where the pearl hung at her neck. Her fingers touched the perfect, round stone and she saw his eyes flicker to her throat.

"You look nice, Catnip," he said softly, smiling. She kept her jaw set. If he thought he could just use her nickname like that to get on her good side, he was wrong.

"Beautiful really," he corrected himself, his smile widening ever so slightly.

Even with a smile on his face, he still looked quite sullen. His gray eyes were not warm and comforting. His dark hair and olive skin spoke of the Seam, and a life of bitterness and toil. Yet he was only twenty-one. Katniss reminded herself that he had looked grown at fourteen, when they had become friends. He had helped her stay alive. Showed her how to make snares and catch prey for her mother and Prim. He had been her only friend for years. He had looked after her family while she fought to stay alive in the games. He had been jealous of the time she spent with Peeta. And then he had pursued bigger aspirations – an uprising, a rebellion. He had turned his fighting spirit into a weapon for District Thirteen to use against the Capitol. He had sacrificed others to bring down Panem, including Prim. It was all a terrifying paradox to Katniss. He had promised to protect her family while she was in the games, yet he had ultimately betrayed her, albeit unknowingly.

She shook her head at him, exhaustion hitting her.

"When did it happen – you and Peeta?" He asked after quite some time. She cocked her head in disbelief.

"You really came all this way and you want to talk about that?" She asked, meeting his gray eyes.

"I mean, I figured it might happen, what with you two both back here…" He continued quietly, as if he was thinking aloud. "It happened kind of fast, though, didn't it? I just thought with what the Capitol did to him, it'd take longer…" Maybe he_ was_ still tipsy, Katniss thought to herself. It had been quite some time since she'd heard Gale speak so freely.

"It's been a year and a half – even longer, Gale." Katniss replied, narrowing her eyes at him. A look passed across his face and she realized that she was no longer thinking of Peeta, but Prim.

Gale looked away from her then, and Katniss saw the guilt that consumed him. She might have pitied him, had it been under different circumstances. But the die had been cast, and it was too late now.

"I'm sorry…" He said softly and looked up at her. "I really am, Katniss. I – "

"I love him." Katniss cut him off and changed the subject before he had the chance to blaspheme Prim's name. "And he loves me."

"I know," Gale said, smiling with chagrin. "I've known you loved him ever since I saw you two kiss during the Quarter Quell…"

A subdued conversation from nearly two years ago sprang up in Katniss's memory. It had been when they were hiding in the safe house, in the Capitol. She remembered Gale and Peeta arguing over whom Katniss truly loved, and she remembered Gale telling Peeta the very same thing about the kiss during the Quarter Quell. They had then talked about a choice…

"Then why are you here?" She asked.

The words came out harsher than she had intended, but she didn't apologize. She knew that he had not shown up to try and break off the marriage. She knew he had admitted defeat long ago. He looked up at her quickly and let out a long breath.

"I just want to make sure you're happy…" He said, the look in his gray eyes genuine. Katniss knew there would always be things left unspoken between them.

"I am," she replied matter-of-factly, gazing off to where Peeta stood talking with Haymitch.

As if he sensed her watching him, Peeta met her gaze and smiled before turning back to his conversation. He was holding two fresh glasses of water, and Katniss knew that he hadn't forgotten the drinks. He was merely giving her time alone to talk with Gale. And she knew that was one of the countless reasons why she loved him.

A few moments later, Peeta returned with the water, and Katniss drank it happily. He rested a hand on her shoulder and she laid her hand atop his once she was done with her glass.

"Gale," Peeta bobbed his head in greeting toward the other man.

But Gale was watching Katniss, the way she gazed lovingly up at Peeta, her features growing soft, her scowl transforming into a warm smile. Gale stood abruptly and Katniss looked up at him.

"I think I'd better go," he managed.

Katniss stood then, Peeta's arm wrapping around her back. The three stood in awkward silence for a moment before Gale spoke up again.

"I guess this is goodbye, then…" He said lightly. The words hung heavy in the air between him and Katniss, though.

"Goodbye Gale," Katniss replied, not breaking her gaze from his. There were things she wanted to tell him. Things she wanted to yell at him – how dare he show up now, how his apology wasn't good enough. But she refrained from any type of outburst and set her jaw, looking at him long and hard.

Without another word, Gale turned and left, his tall figure growing ever smaller as the distance between them increased.

Later, after they had thanked Effie for the hundredth time that night, given their farewells to the remaining guests, and made sure those who were staying had adequate accommodations, Peeta asked Katniss about her conversation with Gale. They were upstairs in their bedroom, Peeta slipping out of his tuxedo jacket and Katniss unlacing her boots. Her mother and Annie had refused to spend the night after the wedding – despite Katniss's protests – in the newlyweds' house. Instead, they were staying with Haymitch, whose house was only inhabitable because of Sae's wondrous cleaning skills. Katniss was enjoying the quiet that had returned to their house. That is, until Peeta spoke up.

"What did he say…?" Peeta asked, pulling off his socks instead of looking at her. Katniss paused for a moment.

"He told me he just wanted to make sure I was happy…" she responded and stayed her hands from where they had been trying – unsuccessfully – to unlace her dress. Peeta met her gaze then.

"And he apologized." She continued. She saw the look of surprise on Peeta's face. "Well, sort of," she quickly added.

"Oh…" Peeta replied from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, undoing his waistcoat.

"And he said that he knew I loved you, ever since the Quarter Quell." Peeta's gaze caught hers and a look of recognition passed across his face. He smiled to himself as he glanced down to undo his tie.

Katniss struggled with the laces on her gown, the mood in the room more solemn than she had hoped for. But at least Peeta was smiling. After a minute, she gave up on her dress, collapsing onto the stool near her vanity.

"I wish _I_ would have known that…" She said. "Might have made things a little less confusing…" She added, somewhat under her breath. Peeta smiled at her and stood.

"I think you did know," he said, crossing the short distance to stand near her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "At least deep down inside, you did know."

"I just wish – " she started, but he cut her off.

"Katniss," he said softly, his blue eyes holding her gray ones captive. "All that matters is that you love me now. And I love you."

And before she could say another word, he leaned down and kissed her. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her up from the stool to stand. His hands found the laces that cinched in the bodice of her gown and he began undoing them, his fingers working deftly. Her fingers brushed the buttons of his shirt and she began her quick work undoing them as well. Soon enough he slipped out of his shirt, then stepped out of his pants. Somewhere along the way, her dress had loosened enough so that he merely had to push the delicate cap sleeves aside and the garment fell to the floor in a heap of lace and tulle and beadwork. She let out a giggle as she stepped gingerly over the gown – naked – and into his waiting arms. Their lips met once more and he kissed her for the apology she would never get. He kissed her for everything that she had lost, knowing that he could never replace those she loved, but that he would never stop trying. But most of all, he kissed her for the love he felt, the love that was as simple as breathing. The love that had been born anew in him the moment he saw her standing on the front porch of her house as he planted the primroses, her hair wild, her gray eyes full of grief.

And they lay there afterward, their legs entwined, their arms around each other, and she knew that she loved him, had loved him before she even knew it herself, and would always love him. She knew she had made the right choice. But Gale had been wrong when he had said Katniss would choose the person that she needed to survive. No, she had chosen the person that she needed to thrive. And in Peeta's warmth she had pulled herself out of her grief, just as a tiny plant pulls itself from the ground and turns its face toward the sun. And so she had bloomed in the splendor of his sun like the delicate pink primroses that were planted in her front yard.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

"I love you," she said softly as she pulled back from the kiss.

And he knew that it was real, that it always had been and always would be.

**-Fin-**


End file.
